


Coffee Stains

by sabiwasabi



Category: Haikyu, Haikyuu!!, haikyuu
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabiwasabi/pseuds/sabiwasabi
Relationships: Kuroo x Original character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

_I had a dream that I was in this building, and for whatever reason I had to keep moving up the floors and get to the top. But with each level, you were faced with more people who tried to distract you from remembering why you were there in the first place. On each floor, I became a different person with a different background and I can feel their memories becoming mine. That was the trick, you forget who you are and you get lost._

_There was this one floor where I was an older woman who found someone I knew. He was telling this ridiculous story about how he orchestrated spilling a drink down my shirt when he and I were younger, and for whatever reason this story was hilarious to me. But suddenly, he started having a heart attack. In the middle of him telling me this story, he died. Right before though, when I had him in my arms and the hundreds of memories that we shared together came rushing back to me, he laughed one last beautiful laugh, and he uttered his last words to me, “Be careful on your way up, love.”_

_I woke up shortly after, not understanding why I had this dream but just grateful it wasn’t a nightmare._

_But the old man’s words stuck with me._

_I see her now, remembering back to when I saw her and thinking what was it about her that interested me so much? Why did I care so much if I was going to see her again?_

_But here she was, giving off electromagnetic pulses that were changing the molecular structure of my organs._

_I don’t mind being alone._

_I don’t mind eating alone._

_Drinking alone._

_Listening to music alone_

_But for the first time in a long time, she made me realize that as much as I like to be alone I don’t really want to be lonely._

_I do this thing where I over analyze situations and try to predict all the possible outcomes. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, maybe it's for self preservation. Maybe if I do this I can be fully prepared for the worst and I won't get hurt. I guess I don’t even know myself at all though, because I thought I’d be happy by now._

_But I saw his eyes, looking at her too. Maybe it’s just a spark, but it’s enough for me to decide. I take a step back, cursing myself for not thinking of this as a possibility and being so naive. I step back, and when she looks at me and smiles I can’t help but smile back._

_Maybe someday the salt in my wounds won’t burn, maybe one day I won’t be afraid of hurting so much._

_I look at her, and I think back to the old man wishing I took his words to heart more._


	2. Kay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, it’s all a little slow but i promise things do get interesting

I notice him the minute he came in, despite my job being so busy with a five-drink order and even more flowing into our queue. Thankfully my mask covers my attraction, because I really can’t handle my coworkers teasing me for having another “crush-tomer”—a phrase they’ve coined that still makes me cringe. My ears strain to hear what his order could be, while I also struggle to blend a Frappuccino and make an iced latte at the same time. Customers that keep pinging through our drive-thru, though, prevent me from being able to hear his voice; part of me wants him to look up and make eye contact with me while the other is screaming for me to just stop looking at him creepily. 

I press on my headset to speak, “Hey Logan? Can we switch bars, please?” 

“Why? Are you okay?” Logan, my coworker, is helping me make my drive-thru drinks, but if he gets a cafe order he has to switch back. Meaning he gets to make Gorgeous Guy’s drink and not me. 

“Just for a moment? I’ll explain after.” My eyes gaze over the front bar espresso machines, where he’s walking down to the hand-off counter. 

Logan follows my stare; when I look back at him his eyes twinkle. “He seems cute.” 

“Shush, I’ll make the rest of the frap order when I’m done with this drink.” I promise, and we seamlessly switch sides. Exhilaration tingles through my fingers when I pull the ticket, I _need_ to know his name. 

_K_.

That’s all I get for his name. Thankfully my disappointment is hidden, because not only do I not know his name he also ordered a S’mores Frappuccino. I keep my head down, making his drink as quickly as I can before a mobile order traps me to this station. There’s a reason I like to stay over at the drive-thru bar; I don’t have to talk to the customers, if they order something ridiculous I don’t have to face them and act like they were right in being a jerk to the barista that took their order. There’s a comfortable distance. On the other hand, being on front bar making cafe orders means that there’s a thin barrier between my customers and me. They feel compelled to ask me what the new joke of the week is, to explain why they’re ordering inside instead of mobile ordering, to pester me on whether the drink they’re already touching is theirs (it’s not), and if that isn't their drink when will it be ready?

As the blender whirs on, I'm delighted to be distracted by more coworkers making fun of someone who got mad over three cents being dropped accidentally. Hearing them calms my nerves only slightly. Part of me wonders if "K" is watching make his stupid drink, which unnerves me even more. Despite my naive shyness, I decide I will actually put in more effort to make a pretty drink for a pretty customer. Marshmallow whipped cream, a healthy dose of milk chocolate sauce. Pouring the drink into the cup as carefully and quickly as I can, I top it off with more whipped cream and a sprinkle of the graham cracker. I hesitate before adding a drizzle of the chocolate over the whip again. I'm too invested in making a commercial quality beverage that I don't notice Logan has come by my side to make a Refresher drink and has been watching me. 

“Ooh pretty!” Logan chimes in my ear to which I thank him, “Thought you hated making those.”

“She’s biased towards hot guys-" My manager says over our headsets, before starting to take another order on the drive-thru. I scold them quickly, before lidding the Frappuccino and prepare myself to call out K’s drink. 

“Kay? Grande s’mores-“ I look up and his eyes are already steady on me. Even with the mask he has on, I know the rest of his face is just as breathtaking. 

Since the virus has been brought under the control and vaccines have been rolled out, schools have opened up and masks are no longer required for people to wear. Thankfully my job still lets me wear one, and most of our team wears one too. It’s rare, though, to see customers walk inside with a mask. Yet here he is wearing one. While this normally wouldn’t make my heart stutter, I can’t help but feel like he’s probably a considerate kind of person, probably really respectful, and man his _eyes_ … I can look at those eyes forever, and right now they’re sparkling. I’d give anything to see the smile underneath his mask. He’s tall, handsome, fit. His eyes... those eyes could pierce into my soul, and they probably already are. His hair is jet black, pulling off a perfect “I literally woke up with this and it’s somehow perfect” style. 

And. 

He’s still waiting for me to put down the drink. 

“Ope-sorry,” I laugh, higher and probably louder, than normally. _God, I am an idiot._

“It’s okay,” He says lightly, his voice booms inside something in my chest. “Thank you-“, he glances at my name tag where I had embarrassingly painted a goose yelling out my name, “-Sabi.” 

I wave an awkward goodbye, to which he chuckles and waves back. Turning around, one of my coworkers is giving me a mischievous and teasing look.

“I see you,” Michelle says into her headset, further embarrassing me. Thank god for this mask or else they'd be teasing my growing blush now. 

“Someone take Sabrina off the floor,” Mahlia playfully chides. “She’s not allowed to talk to customers anymore.”

“Oh shut up,” I laugh and take back my place at the drive-thru bar. 

“Seriously though? He was _fine_ , Sabrina. I’m jealous you even gotta have those ten seconds with him,” Michelle says with her eyes still playfully teasing me. 

“I think a part of me died and went to heaven when I took his order,” Mahlia agree, throwing in a panini into the oven. 

“How are _you_ any better than me?” I chide, handing a beverage order to Alec at the drive-thru window. 

“Because-“ She’s interrupted by our headsets telling us to wash our hands. We groan in response. _I secretly plan on killing our coworker who programmed the headsets to remind us to do our job every hour_. “-Jeez, anyway, because I didn’t openly try to flirt with him.”

“I’d hardly call it flirting,” I start to queue five shots of espresso and head over to our cold bar station to make iced teas. 

“Oh I agree,” Mahlia laughs. “I also think that ogling at cute guys isn’t flirting.”

My coworkers laugh at me, and I just smile in response. As I’m handing off more drinks to Alec, I quirk up my eyebrows. “Hey, Mahlia, you took his order. What was his name? It just said ‘K’ on the cup.”

“Oh that’s another thing, he ordered a _Frappuccino_?” Alec says before handing a drink of a customer at the window, quickly giving me a judgemental look.

“Shut up, every beautiful person needs a vice." I sigh, "Mahlia what was his name?”

She snickers, “I have no idea. He said his name and I didn’t want to mess it up. You know I can’t spell! Besides, I was too distracted by how hot he was. Also he had the cutest accent! I think my brain short-circuited.” 

I exhale, “He really did. I felt it in my chest when he spoke to me.” I hold my fist to my heart and sigh dreamily, prompting my coworkers to giggle.

The rest of my shift unfortunately doesn’t go by any quicker. We stay busy in drive-thru until the minute we close. With only an hour to close, normally I’m able to keep talking to my coworkers and laugh along with them. But today, I can’t help but wander back to _him_. I might never see him again, which wouldn’t be the end of the world. And yet…The weight of his eyes on me still make me feel so elated, so _seen_. His eyes were so gorgeous, they were golden and bright. That’s when it hits me. His jacket! He was wearing our university varsity jacket. 

“Oh god,” I groan out loud in disbelief. 

“What’s up?” Alec says over the headset, there's clinking of coins as he’s counting the night tills in the background. 

_Yikes, I didn’t know I was still broadcasting through our headsets._

“I just realized that that cute guy from earlier goes to my school.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Alec laughs, from a distance we can hear Logan clapping at the good news. 

“Right?” Logan, who has come to the back-of-the house to fill the mop bucket, adds.

“Well it’s the fact that he’s on one of our sports teams and I have no idea which one,” I scoff at my stupidity for not recognizing it earlier. I start scrubbing down our iced coffee container, my mind drifts off wondering what sport he probably plays. _Quite frankly he’d look good playing anything._

“What’s your university, again?” Alec says off the headset.

With a soapy finger I stop broadcasting over my headset and answer back, “Ravenswood Uni.” 

“What’s your major?”

“Animation/Illustration,” I say. _I wonder what major he is..._

“And you’ve never seen him before?” 

I sigh, “No, at least never around my side of campus.” 

“So how do you know he’s in your university, then?” Alec laughs. 

“Because he had a varsity jacket thing on, with our school name.”

“Oh that’s easy then,” Logan, who walks in the back room, starts to pour the dirty mop water out. “You should just go to the gyms on campus and see whose team has the jackets you saw today.” 

Huh. As enticing as it sounds, the downside is that there’s only a small chance I’d see him. Then what? Do I walk up to him and say, “Hi you came into my job yesterday and I actively went stalker mode to go look for you?” I have a deadline to finish for my animation classes, I don’t have the time to dawdle and fall behind. 

That’s when it hits me, though. My project is to capture movement in my daily life. Sports are all about movement... right?

I have to be better than my classmates, it’s a highly competitive field and we all want to be the top. It’s only been a few days, but the pressure to succeed is high. Already, I can feel myself being buried under the stress. I have to be better than them. I’ve heard some of their ideas and there’s already someone who had the same idea I originally had. Unless I can find Kay, ask if it’s be possible for me to film him and his team for my project (and possibly have a chance to get to know him?).

“Logan you’re a genius.” 

-(-)-


	3. The Gyms

Thankfully I have the next few days off, and I manage to get out of my stuffy dorm and walk around campus for once. Part of me still believe this is stupid and I should’ve just stuck to being lazy and animate myself making latte art. But if I were to get out for _once_ in my life, I could find something inspiring (and the cute guy, but that’s not the _main_ goal). August weather makes this difficult, though, I’m sweating and it’s only been five minutes. The courtyards are busy today, there’s students scattered across the quad under trees with blankets laid out, eating lunch. Here are one of the places where different majors get to interact. Most can't resist hanging out here because of the delicious shade the gorgeous trees provide. In spring, the magnolia trees have the prettiest pink flowers that could even inspire Monet. But right now, the August heat is making me regret this terrible decision. _Stupid Logan! Why did I listen to him?_

I walk around aimlessly, hoping that the cute guy will magically appear before me. It’s dawning on me that I might have to walk further into the other side of campus, the part where I haven’t set foot on. Anxiety starts to creep up, I really don’t think it’s worth getting lost when I could just go back. But then that means staying inside my dorm with Andrea, who is constantly asking if I find her annoying ( _I do_ ) and who likes to keep her side of the room clean as much as she bathes—irregularly. I sigh, I guess staying in the heat is better than sitting in a mildewy dorm room with Andrea asking me where I’m _really_ from. I decide on stopping near one of the west campus buildings with the most shade. My water bottle is wet with condensation and it drips down my hands. I see him.

 _Oh god. That’s him!_ I nearly choke, I do choke actually. I turn around and face my book bag on the floor to avoid him seeing me. _Isn’t this what I wanted?_ I compose myself and sneak a glance over my shoulder. 

He’s talking to another guy who’s slightly shorter than he is.Both have dark hair, but the shorter friend's is longer hair with blonde streaks. Kay-might as well give him a temporary name other than calling him Cute Customer- talks animatedly while the other listens quietly with a small smile. They’re both wearing gym shorts and t-shirts, which makes me wonder if they’re both on the same team. He can’t see me from where I sit, they’re walking further when I realize I have been staring for a while. Curiosity gets the best of me, I push myself off the ground despite the heat telling me to give up and melt onto the concrete. Before I think too much of it, I follow the same path they walk from a distance. Magnolia trees line the sidewalk, giving temporary relief from the sun until we get farther and farther away from the courtyards. I haven’t been to this part of campus before, it’s past the STEM majors building now. I get a text from one of my classmates asking about the syllabus; they distract me for just a moment though because when I look up, he’s gone. I look around confused and step out of the way from a jogger coming opposite of me. _Crap! There’s no way I know how to get back to my dorms from here, I’m such an idiot for following Logan’s advice!_ Anxiety works its way into my blood again, I don’t want to bother anyone nearby and look like the idiot art student who wasn't paying attention and has no sense of direction. Panic rises now, in my head I know it’s ridiculous, this isn’t a big deal. People get lost. But now I’ve wasted time with all that walking when I should've just sucked it up and dealt with Andrea all night. At least there would’ve been AC. I could’ve had my reference video already to turn in, I could’ve already started sketching. Instead I’m lost and I have nothing. Tears prick my eyes, I feel smaller. Too many thoughts rush in my head for me to be able to get grip. _I am an idiot. I’m an idiot for getting lost. I am an idiot for thinking it’s okay to find the cute guy and then following him. This is so stupid!_

The heat doesn’t help, either. I feel the ground beneath my feet start to wobble, thousands of black dots flood my vision and I know I am going to pass out from the heat and this godforsaken panic attack any second. There’s a building close by, and I force my feet to move forward. A rush of air conditioning washes over me, I can’t help but sink into the floor. The door behind me closes heavily, making a loud echo. I cannot allow myself to succumb to this panic attack, I refuse.

_Focus Sabrina, what are five things you can see?_

_Well. Not much. I’m in a dark gym. It’s empty._ Still, I force myself to look around and I find four more things I can see. _Okay, now what are four things I can feel?_

 _Air conditioning_ (thank god) _, the cool basketball floor under my hands, my backpack digging into my back, my hair_. I push myself up, my hand steadying myself. _Three things I can hear?_

_The hum of what I assume is the AC, my foot steps, and..._

Balls are thumping around in the distance. I walk towards the sound, passing through empty courts and find a long hallway. I realize this must be the student sport center. The windows show me the tennis courts. I continue walking towards the sound though because the closer I get, the more I hear the people playing. I really don’t want to interrupt a game, but I still have no idea where I am. I lost my student map a week ago, not caring because I thought I wasn't going to ever leave the art campus. The gym doors have windows, peeking inside I see students playing volleyball. My hand moves to the door and right when I slowly push down to open it, I see him again. _Cute guy._ He’s in one of those makeshift jerseys I used to wear back in high school for gym. Somehow he still looks incredibly attractive. There’s an older man on the sidelines watching the team, every once in a while he yells at the team to follow through something. As quietly as I can, I open the gym door. It makes a metallic whine before shutting behind me loudly. Wincing, I keep my head down and quickly head over to who I can assume is the coach. 

He glances over at me and smiles, “Are you here for the manager position?”

I blink at him. “Uh, no. Sorry. I actually got lost, I’m in the art department and wandered too far. Do you have a map I can use, please?”

His smile wavers slightly, he checks his watch. “Sorry, give me a second.” He blows his whistle, “Alright guys take a 20! The next set I want to see more effort from Juarez and Jackson.” The team scatters, grabbing their water bottles and some even take a moment to take their shirts off to cool down. This is when I feel my cheeks flush and look away. Glancing back at the coach, he’s digging around his folders. “I have a student map around here somewhere,” he apologizes, “It’s just- ah, here you go.”

He turns around and hands me a wrinkled pamphlet. My shoulders relax, “Thank you! Thank you!” 

I’m turning on my heels when his voice halters my next step, “I had an interview for a student manager today. But he’s not here. Are you sure you’re not interested? There’s some credits involved.” 

Credits? Definitely a bribe. A bribe that could work considering I am a little desperate to make up for my grades last year. I chew the inside my cheek as I consider the pros and cons of being a student manager, whatever that means.

Pros: I get credit. This could potentially give me a more thrilling social life. Cute guy is here.

Cons: I don’t know a lot about volleyball except from what we played in gym my freshman year of high school ( _and that was a LONG time ago_ ). Cute guy is here.

“I-, well-, I don’t really have a lot of time in my schedule right now. I don’t even know what being a manager means-“ I stutter.

He hands me a brochure. Hesitantly I page through it, inside there’s all the information I need that throws my pitiful excuse out the window. “Think about it. I have until the end of this week to find one, but our current manager was really hoping to hire somebody today.”

“You already have a manager?” I glance from the brochure at him.

“Yes, she’s asked for some help since this is her third year and we need someone to train after she graduates next year. We need someone to help her with everything, lighten the load so to speak.” He smiles politely at me again, his polo shirt has his name embroidered over his left pocket. _Coach Davis._

“Sorry,” I say and his face falls, “I don’t think I can.” Before he can turn back to the team I add, “Actually, before I go, I have an animation project due in a few weeks. It’s supposed to capture motion in my daily life. I think it’s also supposed to be some elaborate icebreaker to introduce us to the rest of our class, but that's besides the point. Is it okay if I stay and film a reference video of the team playing?”

His eyes wrinkle and that smirk comes back, “Sure, if you agree to being our manager.” I look up at him again. _Really?_ “Besides, isn’t it cheating to animate something that isn’t even in your daily routine? I’ll let you videotape the team, do whatever you want! But only if you become a manager.”

Sizing him up, I hate to admit it, but he’s got a point although I just merely wouldn't have _mentioned_ that to my teacher. But I don’t want to tell my class that all I do is be a barista and then animate in my dark, rank room. I also don’t want to have something so basic that I fall to the bottom of the class. Yet I’ve never drawn anyone playing sports, nor have I ever captured athletic-like speed into any of my animations besides running and the occasional person flying. _Will it be too much? Am I in over my head again-_

“Deal.” I surprise him and myself. His smirk breaks to a dazzling smile. I can see him when he’s younger now. He was probably the star athlete, pushing himself to be better. He loved the sport so much that he wanted to kindle that passion to future generations. When I look around gym, there are dozens of banners from years of nationals that this team has won. There’s an empty spot for this year.He holds out his hand, forgoing the interview process that I’m honestly grateful won’t happen. I grip his hand, and we shake on it. I’ll adjust my schedule. I’m sure I can find time somewhere to do this. 

“Do I start now or..?” I shuffle my feet nervously.

“Well we are about to start another set. Let's go to my office actually, there’s beginner guides that explain the sport you can study. Have you ever played before?” He leads me around the side of the gym and I force myself to look ahead and not see if “K” is watching me. Unfortunately, curiosity gets the best of me and I can't help but look around to find him. Now, I'm wishing I didn’t because he’s already looking over at me, whispering to his friends. 

“When I was a freshman in high school.” Quickly, I add, “I liked it though. I had fun. My problem is that I get overly competitive when I can’t even perform physically."

Coach Davis laughs, "Well it’s definitely important to have fun. Here,” he hands me a paperback book. “This explains the positions, the moves, everything. There’s some notes from our manager Shimi that can be helpful too.” Coach Davis turns around and sits on the edge of his desk to face me. “To be fair, I do expect you to help us train our team, is that okay?”

 _Ugh, that sucks._ “Yeah, but I won’t be training like they will be right?”

“God no,” he laughs. “The way I train them is borderline brutal. The role of managers, though, is more than paperwork or taking notes for the Coach. They also help with motivating the team. I’ve found that managers who practice what they preach and get their blood flowing alongside the team really improves morale. And it brings the relationship closer. They can trust the manager to understand that the training is rigorous, tiring, but all worth it when we win.” 

_Well damn, that_ does _sound pretty cool. Although I would've been fine just taking notes._

“They start their new game in ten minutes,” Coach Davis checks his watch. “We can introduce you after their game if that’s okay. What’s your schedule look like?”

“Uh, I have classes in the mornings on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. And I work those days, at night.” I flip through the book, reading Shimi's neat handwriting.

“Yeesh! You work the same days you go to class? What do you do?” 

“I’m a barista at the Starbucks right outside campus.” 

Coach Davis whistles, “How come you don’t campus cafe? Oh man, what is it called...The Grind! It’s at least on close by right?” 

I smile, “They don’t have the benefits I need.” 

He nods, “Understandable. Well! We have practice every other day except Sundays. We don’t usually have managers on for every practice, Shimi is actually only able to be present Mondays and Tuesdays during the week. Your schedule fits in perfectly! Are you available weekends?" Coach Davis leads me outside the office back to the gym, we sit on the bench for the coaches and managers. The players are goofing off, stretching, laughing. Again I can't help but glance at Kay, but his friend with the long hair is already looking over at me. Embarrassed, I quickly look away again.

“Technically during the weekends, I use the mornings to work on studying and catching up on homework-” I pull my attention back to the coach. 

“Perfect then! We have team practices in the afternoons. Our season starts at the end of August until December. During that time we are practicing, I have practice matches set up with other colleges, and then we have the tournaments in the winter. If we win, we go to nationals.” 

“When are the games? Oh, thank you.” He offers me a protein bar and a cold bottle of water. 

“We keep them on the weekends. This shouldn’t impact your work life and student regime unless you don’t plan ahead, so I recommend that you’re on top of that yourself. This is a responsibility so I won’t accept half-assed effort.”

“Oh I understand,” I chew on the bar. “It won’t be too much of an issue.” 

Coach Davis nods before blowing on his whistle. “Alright guys! Get set up!” To me he asks, “What’s your name, by the way?”

 _Right_. “Oh, uh it’s Sabrina Garcia.” 

He nods appreciatively and to the team shouts, “We have a new manager to help Shimi! This is Sabrina Garcia. She’s also going to be working on a school project, so try not to show off too much when you see her camera.” I look up to the gym ceiling embarrassed, not wanting to make eye contact with Cute Guy and his friends, again. I wasn’t expecting for the coach to call me out, I thought he said he was going to introduce me after the game.

He looks over at me and smiles, shrugging apologetically. “Sorry. I learned my lesson with Shimi that college boys are incredibly idiotic when it comes to female managers. Here,” he hands me a list. “We have 12 total on our team. I highlighted our exchange students because our Japanese program is central to everything we’ve created here at Ravenswood, so as a manager you’ll need to learn the ins and outs of the program. Our seniors are in red. Those not highlighted are a mix of 1st-3rd years. Our exchange students are highlighted in green, there's two sophomores and two juniors. We have a total of four students from Japan.”

“Wow really?” I look up from the list. 

“Yes, so my grandfather was a coach in Japan. So when my mother immigrated to the States, she met my father who already was in love with volleyball. It was meant to be.” He smiles, proud. “So anyway, it turns out that we have a lot of Japanese students who come to the States for volleyball or the programs we have. Ravenswood is actually one of the top in the nation, so we get _many_ applications to sift through for our program." 

“Wow.” I exhale, I had no idea our college was known for so many top programs. Art, Stem, volleyball too apparently. _I really need to get out more._

“One of my cousins actually coaches too, he’s in Japan. He helped me to coordinate with the universities and schools out there to find students interested in going to school in the States and learning a different way of life, while also playing volleyball-sorry hold on.” He blows his whistle, “Alright guys set up! Riviera this is going to be our next lineup...” He leaves me on the side of the court to talk to one of the players with a paper in his hands. 

Looking back to my list, I can't help but wonder who Kay is.

_All four Japanese students have a K in their name._

I groan inwardly. 

There’s a short whistle and the split teams start their game. The smaller friend of Kay is the one setting. I quietly pull out my camera, moving from the bench to the bleachers on the far right side for a better view. I pretend to focus on the red jerseys than the blue because they're conveniently closer, not because _Cute Guy_ is on this side. His friend’s serve takes my breath away, though. While not being as big as the other team members (still definitely taller than me), he has an intense control and power behind the ball. Kay walks backward to briefly give his friend a fist pump while saying something in Japanese. Their team goes back into formation, and I notice the faint smile on the server’s face. The red team manages to stop his next serve, the smack of the ball cuts my thoughts short as I wonder how they're skin can get used to the harsh sting. I used to think that volleyball was just an elaborate game of “don’t let the balloon touch the ground”, which it kind of is, but watching the back and forth has me on edge. 

I glance through the book to see what position K is. _Middle blocker._ I look up in time seeing that the blue team has set up an attack. A player in blue jumps to spike, Kay and another player jump. Even I can see the shot, I know the blue team will spike swiftly through the gap and steal a point. At the last second, though, Kay moves his hand and blocks it seamlessly. The court gets quiet but soon erupts to cheers and groaning from both sides. I don’t even care that my mouth is gaping, my mind is still boggled at how quickly Kay lured them into such an obvious opening just to shut them out. The red team shouts in excitement while the blue team stiffens, clearly frustrated that they can’t shift the points. 

On Kay’s team, another exchange student is setting. 

“Nice serve Akaashi!” _Is that a way to encourage them? To show their confidence in their setter before they can even serve?_ Well, now there’s only three names left that could possibly be Kay. The blue team receives Akaashi’s serve back, and before I know it the long-haired friend is setting up an attack with the other Japanese student. This one is loud, boisterous. His hair sticks up, ends dyed grey and white while his roots grow in black. Completely the opposite of Akaashi who seems so serious.

“Bokuto-san!” Yells the long-haired player, quickly I find his position to be a setter. _Bokuto_. I mentally cross off another name. In a quick swift motion, their red team steals another point with Bokuto's powerful, straight spike. It barely slams within bounds.They cheer again before they set up another serve. 

“That’s a line shot.” I look up to my side to the sudden voice. 

A pretty girl has sat next to me while I was enthralled with the game. She has on black rimmed glasses, shiny black hair falls like a curtain over her shoulders. She’s smiles at me shyly. 

“Oh,” Is all I can say. “I’m really new, thank you.” 

“No problem. Coach Davis told me that our new manager was going to be a male student but apparently he never showed. I’m Kiyoko Shimizu. You can call me Shimi though.” 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Sabrina.” She smiles at me and redirects her focus back to the game. 

The game is now set to 10-8. Red is winning. 

“They’re in the double digits. If they can’t close the gap it’s just going to get wider,” Shimi explains.

“It seems like the red team is kicking their ass,” I chuckle. I quietly adjust my camera. 

Shimi hums in agreement. “Have you gotten a chance to meet the players?”

“No, I actually got lost around this part of campus and heard people playing. So I was going to see if Coach Davis could help me back to my side of campus when he somehow convinced me to be a manager. Which kinda helps anyway because I need to film a reference video for my animation project, and he would only let me do that if I were part of their team.” I leave out the part about Kay and his friend being the reason I got lost in the first place. 

She giggles, “Yes he can be a very charming and convincing person.” She leans over to see what my camera is capturing. “What’s your major?” 

“Oh I’m an art student. I’m going for animation and illustration. One day I want to make a video game, but I also want to write a manga. My counselors said I should focus on one or the other but I think that’s ridiculous, what’s the point in choosing one when you love both." _I should really stop rambling_. "Uh, what about you? What’s your major?”

“Sports medicine.” 

“Wow,” I say. “You must really love this then.”

“In a way,” she responds, adding nothing further. Conversation dies between us, but it’s a comfortable silence as we watch the game unfold. 

“So what’re they saying?” I ask Shimi. Kay and Bokuto high five each other, both have a wide grin on their face and I can't help smiling too. 

“They said nice kill,” Shimi shuffles in her seat. "It's a phrase we say in Japan a lot, a compliment really despite how aggressive it sounds." Shimi chuckles, “It’s funny, those four used to be my opponents back in Japan and now we are here together.”

“Oh yeah?” I look over at Kay, his hair sticks with sweat, but he doesn’t look tired at all. Half of my mind is trying to pay attention to what Shimi is saying, the other can’t help but check him out. "That's funny."

“One touch!” Kay yells, he’s grinning ear to ear as he looks back. His friend dives forward to receive. I write down the time stamp, _Maybe I can animate that?_

Shimi surprises me when she yells something next to me. From context I figure it means “nice receive”, but I can feel the excitement building in the gym. The ball has been in motion for a while now. Each team has been pushing themselves further and further. Ok the blue team, I can hear them encouraging them in Spanish while the other side in Japanese. Red team cheers when they break the rhythm and score another point. 

“So this is the match point,” Shimi explains. “If our blue team can make it to 24 they can tie the score and then the winning point will have to be 26 instead of 25.”

“Do you think they can do it?”

Shimi clicks her tongue, “Both teams have been pushing themselves. I don’t think it’s likely that blue will win, but I’ve seen greater miracles.”

“So Bokuto is the one with the silver hair,” I go off topic, “Akaashi has short black hair. Who are the other two?” I tap my fingers nervously, there’s no way she can see my interest in Kay.. right?

“So the one with his hair in the ponytail is-" Coach Davis blows his whistle. The red team won the match. Over their cheering, he has the blue team do punishments while the red team cleans up the gym. I turn back to Shimi, but she excuses herself quietly and jogs towards Coach to show him her notes.

My camera is still rolling, though, so as I lean over to save my video I feel a shadow come over me. I look up and he’s there. _Cute guy._ His face is flushed and sweating, his raven black hair is sticking to his forehead, _and his eyes._ Golden, warm. Despite playing a very intense match, he still throws me a lopsided smile and asks, “Are you my barista?”

_I can be your anything. Wait! Shut up! Answer him, don’t be so obvious!_

“Oh uh-, Do I know you?” _Obvious, not oblivious._ Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or did he look a little disappointed?

“Sorry, do you work at Starbucks? I came in yesterday after our practice and ordered a S’mores Frappuccino?” One of his hands are on his hip and the other is massaging his neck. "Sorry, you get a lot of customers I shouldn't just think you'd remember me-" 

“Oh! Oh! That’s right!” I feign remembering, as if I haven’t been daydreaming about him for two days. Idiot. “You look different without the...mask.” My hands gesture in front of my face, awkwardly. 

He smiles at me, and I swear there’s nebulas bursting through my chest. “Nice to see you again. I didn’t know you were interested in volleyball.” 

_I’m not._

Before I can answer, Coach calls me over. “Sorry,” I apologize. 

“It’s fine,” he grins at me. “Fate will have it that I now have unlimited access to Starbucks.” 

I snort and roll my eyes, “I don't even know your name, but sure. Keep ordering Frappuccinos though and I’ll ask the Coach to make you do extra reps or drills, or whatever you guys call them.” 

At that he laughs, “It’s Kuroo. Do you even know what you can or can’t do?” He walks with me across the gym towards the Coach's office. 

“I’m sure I can ask for favors,” Mentally I’m doing backflips for knowing his name now. Kuroo gives me a look and I cave, “No I have no idea what I can or cannot do.”

“Ah, are you sure you even qualify? Shouldn't a manager be more informative about the sport their team plays?” Kuroo smirks down at me. He may be handsome, but he is also incredible at getting under people’s skin, huh?

I narrow my eyes and don’t do anything to tamper down the competitiveness starting to rise, “Do _you_ even qualify?” 

Kuroo blinks at me, “For…for volleyball?” 

I hesitate too long, not wanting to admit that I spoke too quickly before thinking of a legitimate comeback. Kuroo laughs, “Thank god we have Kiyoko to train you.” I cross my arms ready to respond.

“Stop harassing her,” Coach interrupts, his tone light hearted. “She qualifies because I said so and we need the help. Now stop stalling and go help out with cleaning up or I’ll take you off the rotation for our next game.” 

Kuroo raises his hands up in compliance and steps away, “Sorry, sorry.” He looks at me and smiles, “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” I grin. His cheeks tint pink, and I don’t think it’s because of the game. 

-(-)-


	4. Extra Hot

For the following two weeks Shimi has me by her side training me. She meets me in the student courtyard and from there Shimi shows me flashcards on the sport, the positions, the team members, and volleyball terms. I learn more about her too, she’s dating a college student on campus who’s becoming a personal trainer. On one of our walks she introduced us after he ran up to us in a hurry because she forgot her lunch at home, his face was flushed red and he was breathing heavily. 

“Ryū, this is Sabrina. She’s our new manager,” Shimi takes the lunch and kisses his cheek. 

“Hey,” he takes in a deep breath and exhales. “How do you like it so far?” 

“Oh uh, it’s a lot of fun. The team is really nice,” I leave out the part about Kuroo and his friends insisting on walking me home after each practice. 

“How’s Bokuto and Kuroo?” At the sound of his name I can't stop my heart from fluttering and I quickly glance at Ryū, who’s decided to walk with us across the courtyards. 

I let out a laugh, “Um they’re a lot. But a couple of my friends back home are a lot like them, so it’s nothing new to me.”

“God we played them a few times back home,” Ryū whistles. “They kicked our asses along the way but we beat Kuroo’s team out of finals once.” 

“Really?”

Shimi nods, “That was a fun match.”

“Yeah I never saw Kenma move that much, he actually looked like he was having fun.” Shimi picks a spot underneath a tree to sit us down at, we sit next to her and they both start to eat. She offers me part of her lunch but I decline. 

To be honest, I’m still a little awkward around the team. Shimi does most of the work while I just observe, which is nice because I can still work on my animation project sometimes. Overall though I feel pretty useless, everyone on the team has gotten a chance to know each other over the years and I’m on par with the freshman who just started. Even then, they’re ahead of the curve since they actually have had a whole summer to get to know everyone. So after the practice ends and the team is off to the showers and it’s after Shimi and I clean up the gym, I don’t really know what else to do. I feel a little left out from the team’s boisterous chatter when Shimi is picked up by Ryū and I’m left alone off to the sides. 

After the first official practice I had as a manager, it was at first just Bokuto who would come up to me eager to chat. It was a little disappointing that Kuroo wouldn’t come up to me first, but then again I didn’t approach him either. Bokuto made me feel at ease though, he was the reason that Akaashi then joined our conversations. By the third time that week, Kuroo started to join our conversations along with Kenma who just stood by to listen. Fast forward to today, Kuroo and his friends now come straight for me after their showers and insist on walking me home. It’s mostly Bokuto and Kuroo talking loudly, both competing or joking around usually. I’ve still yet to really talk to Kenma, he tends to keep quieter when I’m around. Akaashi on the other hand is quick to shut down prideful boasts from Kuroo and Bokuto, it’s how I learn that he’s just as quick-witted as I can be with a wicked dry sense of humor. I also learn that he’s an art major like me in illustration and manga. Surprisingly, Bokuto is a psychology major but mainly because he’s still planning a professional volleyball career and just needed a major to keep his family off his back. Kuroo is majoring in Chemistry, and I still know nothing about Kenma. I’m grateful for their company though, the art dorms are on the other side of campus and since practices tend to run late, it’s usually turning dark by the time we leave the gyms. Not only that, but they try their best to include me in on their conversations and even go as far to explain some of their inside jokes. 

It’s also how I learn the devastating fact that Kuroo has an on again, off again, girlfriend. The boys love to tease Kuroo about her, but something about the jokes seem to be less playful than others I’ve heard them make before. As someone who normally wears her heart on her sleeve, attempting to hide my disappointment is a feat. I wish I can say that I don’t care, but unfortunately I’ve kindled a crush on Kuroo for two weeks and I’m not one to crush lightly. 

It’s hard not to admire him, he’s hard working and passionate about not only volleyball but _life_. He radiates, he happily rambles about classes even though none of us can always follow it. Kuroo without a doubt is a pillar of the team not only because of his skill as a middle blocker but because of how well he leads as Vice Captain for Riviera. When you first talk to Kuroo, you’re so intimidated by his height (and his attractiveness), but the more you talk the more you see a side to him you wouldn’t have guessed. He’s kind of a major dork. Coming from one dork to another, it makes him more endearing. Once he said I obviously don't eat a certain fish otherwise I would've understood why Hollywood science in a major blockbuster is such a travesty. Well, I looked up the fish later that night, because where the hell is the correlation? In the end, Google informed me that that random fish contained enzymes that helps produce brain power. Yes, in other words, I learned that hours after that loud and confusing conversation, Kuroo basically called me stupid. 

So it becomes routine that after their grueling runs and drills, they insist on walking me home even if I’m already on my way out trying not to be a bother to them. I’ll feel bad, tell them that they’ve just had a two hour practice and they should rest. Kuroo calls me an idiot and then walks with me anyway. This time though, Bokuto and Akaashi decide to drive home leaving me with Kuroo and Kenma, who looks incredibly exhausted and disheveled from practice today. 

“You’re telling me they have a car and they still decide to walk?” I make a disgusted face, “ _Looking_ at you guys practice exhausts me.”

For the first time, I hear Kenma laugh. 

“Well they walk with us because normally we go to our house right after we drop you off,” Kuroo explains. 

“Yeah but then where’s their car? How do they go home?”

“ _They don’t_ ,” Kenma sighs. “Lately they’ve been crashing at our place because we stay up too late playing video games.” 

“So what happens to their car? It just stays in the parking lot?” I ask bewildered. 

Kuroo laughs, “Yeah it’s technically Bokuto’s car and he’s very relaxed at the possibility of it getting towed.”

“It stresses the hell out of Akaashi,” Kenma adds. “And since everyone’s classes are actually getting down to business we told them they have to stop crashing at our place so much.” This is the most Kenma has talked to me since ever, I’m still stunned that I even managed to make him laugh. I’ll be damned if I let this conversation die. 

“So where do you guys live then?” I try to step around someone who’s walking opposite of us but manage to trip over Kuroo on accident. My mouth goes dry when I feel his hands steadying me, they're warm on my waist and his smile doesn't do much but turn my brain into mush.

“In the neighborhood behind your dorms,” Kenma answers, glancing at my blushing face. I just nod, hoping he doesn’t put two and two together. 

Kuroo’s face brightens, “Actually sometimes we-,” he stops himself and flushes red. “-Ah, nevermind…”

Kenma grins teasingly, “No no please go ahead.” My interest is piqued. 

“What? Sometimes you guys what?” I ask, enjoying the feeling of seeing Kuroo suddenly very embarrassed. 

“Shut _up_ , Kenma.” He glances at me and shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” I tease and playfully elbow his side. 

Kuroo puffs out his cheeks, his voice comes off higher and embarrassed. “It’s nothing, it’s just embarrassing that it’s being made into something when it’s nothing!”

“You stopping yourself in the middle of a sentence is what made it funny,” Kenma scoffs. “ _I’ll tell her then_ -.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo grumbles. “I was just going to say that sometimes we see you walking to class in the morning.”

“Yeah he gets super excited,” Kenma smiles cheekily. 

“You guys never say hi,” I laugh. Somehow I’m able to look like this isn’t fazing me whatsoever on the outside but inside my heart is doing backflips. _He has a girlfriend, idiot._

“Well you always look like you’re rushing, we don’t wanna make you late.” Kuroo tangles his hand in his hair. “Next time, then.”

“Yeah don’t be the creeper staring at a girl,” I tease. 

“You’re one to talk,” Kuroo scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. 

“What’re you implying?!”

“You’re always like, _really,_ staring at us.” I make the mistake of looking at Kuroo, because he gives me a smug smirk, his embarrassment long gone now. 

“That’s literally for my animation production classes and you _know_ that,” I roll my eyes and smack his shoulder. “You’re so full of it.”

“How _are_ classes?” Kenma pulls out snacks from his bag and starts eating, he offers me a granola which I take gladly. 

“They’re fine, we just got this syllabus for the whole year for _one_ project. It’s a little overwhelming.”

“What’s the project?” Kenma and Kuroo ask at the same time. I blink at their synchronization, but they just share a quick glance and look back to me expectantly. 

“It’s supposed to be one big animated video of ourselves and our lives. Which just goes to show how bold my professor thinks that any of us actually have a life.” 

Kenma snickers, “I mean a lot can happen in a year.”

“Yeah and you have us now,” Kuroo grins. “Aren’t you in your second year though? I know you’re not a beginner but this seems pretty advanced.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, “Yes. I’m on a scholarship, so me and like 15 other kids were chosen across the nation for this art program. It’s very intense, and I’m very tired.”

Kuroo whistles, “Damn. Are you good?” 

“No,” I laugh. “They’re all little geniuses, it pisses me off how easy things come for them. _But_ ,” I smile wryly, “They may be at the top but that means I have most room to grow.”

Kuroo taps his chin, “So what kind of animation is it? Do they tell you how you have to style it or…?”

“Well we get to choose, last year we learned a lot of different styles to groundwork the basics. So this year we have more freedom for creativity, so like, for me, I’m going for a Miyazaki-esque style. To me that’s the most appealing. Which means I get to watch Studio Ghibli movies to study, which is _awesome._ ”

Kenma groans, “My studying isn’t anything like that.” 

“Well I mean, it goes deeper than that. And I have my other art classes and normal classes to study for too, so it’s not much easier. What’s your major, Kenma?” I hope I’m not coming off too eager to hear from Kenma. 

“Finance and computer programming ,” he says before tipping his water bottle to his lips. 

“You’re double majoring too? Wait, you're in programming?!” My eyes brighten, “Damn I might actually need your advice, on something then. I highkey wanna design a video game and have no idea where to start-.” Before we knew it, we were at my dorm though. “Oh. Well we can talk about it next time then. Thank you guys for dropping me off.” 

“Of course,” Kuroo says, he pauses before asking. “How do you like the dorms?” _Is he stalling?_

“It sucks,” I huff, “My roommate is incredibly gross. I don’t think she’s bathed in the two and a half weeks we’ve been here.” I could gag at the thought right now. 

“And the dorms haven’t been like super clean either, and they’ve packed in, like, a crap ton of students inside which is _stupid._ ”

Kuroo ponders on this and smiles, “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What?” Kenma eyes him suspiciously. 

“Nothing, we can talk about it at home.” Kuroo shrugs nonchalantly, “Well like always Sabrina, it’s been a pleasure. We’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

I roll my eyes, “Okay weirdo.” I start walking inside the building but someone taps my shoulder. 

“Wait!” Kenma holds out his phone. “Here, you can text me your question. If you want I mean,” his cheeks tinge a soft pink. 

“Oh really? Thanks!” I type in my number, I pause but decide to take a quick selfie for my contact photo. 

“Yeah, I have a thing for video games.” He massages the back of his neck and winces at his choice of words. 

“I know,” I smile. “I accidentally found your YouTube channel a couple of nights ago.” I glance over at Kuroo who seems mildly shocked that Kenma initiated contact with me for once. 

“Alright I sent myself a text,” I hand him his phone back, “Okay guys, g’night!” 

“Goodnight!” Kuroo and Kenma wave back and start walking home. I pause for a moment, wishing I didn’t enjoy how much the sunset sky matches his eyes. 

-(-)-

Sure enough, Kuroo finds me on my way out the next morning. _He has a girlfriend,_ I chant to myself because I know I keep staring at the way his sweats hang off his hips and how his shirt _really_ shows off his arms… 

“‘Morning!” He smiles. 

“Wow, you’re a morning person.” I force my eyes to maintain eye contact with his (gorgeous, golden) eyes. 

“I took a nap,” he laughs. “I go for a run every morning at 5 and then crash back to sleep until 8.”

I pretend to gag, “I’ll admit the dedication is inspiring but that sounds truly awful.”

“Well, I definitely know that Kiyoko goes on team runs with us and even helps us with drills. So you’re next, kid.” He gives me a wink. 

“I’ll tell her I have asthma, I’ll do it.” I nudge him to go left with me, “I’m getting coffee if you want to grab one with me, sorry. I mean, I haven’t had an asthma attack since I was like 10, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 

“You and Kenma, I swear.” He shakes his head, “I’ve had to force him to actually participate for years and he still manages to find ways to cut corners. You guys are probably cut from the same cloth.”

“Work smarter not harder,” I grin. “Where is he?”

“Oh he doesn’t wake up until noon on days he has afternoon classes,” Kuroo says. “Why do you go to Starbucks when we have that campus cafe?” 

“Because I get free drinks here,” I reply. “And I applied to that coffee shop and they rejected my application so I’m still a little salty about it.” 

“Oh good I don’t have to pay for your coffee then,” Kuroo smiles at me teasingly. 

“Aw and I was thinking of getting you a free drink but I guess not,” I sarcastically pout. 

“Oí wait!” He throws an arm around my shoulder, “I take it back.”

I laugh, “Uh huh.” I duck my head so he can’t see my smile widen. I really wish he didn’t affect me in this way. I really wish he would take his arm off of me when we go inside the cafe but at the same times it feels amazing to be in close contact with someone like this, even if we are just friends. 

In the end, my coworkers gave us both free drinks and tried to catch my eye because they _know_ this is “Kay” and here I am grabbing coffee with him. One of my coworkers makes kissing noises when she hands me our drinks, I throw her a glare so she can shut up before Kuroo notices.

“‘ _Extra hot just like you_ ’,” Kuroo reads aloud. 

I choke on my drink, “What?”

  
He laughs, “One of your coworkers wrote this on my cup. It’s signed up with ‘ _dash Sabrina_ ’, aw! You think I’m extra hot?” He shows me his cup and sure enough, on his sticker they’ve managed to type it all for him to read. He gives me a wicked smile, thoroughly enjoying my embarrassment. 

My cheeks redden, “I did _not_ tell them to write that on the cup, shut up.” I’m going to kill Mahlia. 

“Ah don’t get too mad, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Kuroo wraps his arm around my shoulders again while we walk. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.” I ignore him, still embarrassed and mad at him for teasing me like this. 

“Aw I’m sorry,” Kuroo softly laughs when he sees my annoyed, and still embarrassed face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. This is your class right?”

I nod, “Yup. Okay bye.” I try to dash inside. 

He grabs my wrist and clicks his tongue, “Tsk tsk. My classes end around noon today, want to grab lunch?”

“Um,” I nervously toy with one of my curls around with my fingers. “Sure, I guess. But my last class is like around 2pm, so I don’t know how you’re going to track me down.”

He rolls his eyes, “I mean-, well if I had your number that’d be easier.”

I pause. His voice tells me he’s teasing me, but _looking_ at Kuroo right now is telling me a different story. He can’t even look me in the eyes and the tips of his ears are tingeing pink. Smirking, I lean against the door frame of my classroom and enjoy Kuroo being the one who’s flustered for once. 

“Is that your way of asking me?” I tease. 

“Shut up, yes. Do you want lunch or not?” He puffs out his cheeks and forces eye contact with me, I’d be lying if I said his eyes don't make my heart stutter just a little bit. 

“Yeah I'm not one to reject a free meal,” I hand him my unlocked phone. 

“I never said it was _free…_ ” Kuroo hands back my phone, and ruffles my hair. “Okay see ya for lunch then, kid. Lemme know what you’d like to eat.” 

It becomes very hard to concentrate for the rest of my classes. 

-(-)-


	5. The Proposition

For a week Kuroo walks with me to grab coffee talking all the while, he doesn't even mind if I am quieter than usual because he knows that I'm just not a morning person like he is. I don't mind talking to him, though. He makes me laugh and when I find it in me to snark back at his incessant teasing, I'm rewarded by his own smile. After coffee, he without fail, takes me to my first class of the day. Kuroo will also always make sure I have lunch later on, whether it’s him taking me to a small cafe or even giving me some of his own packed lunch. 

“I don’t get it, how are you skipping lunch? It’s food,” He bites into his sandwich and shakes his head. 

“Okay, one." I count off the points on my fingers. "There’s nowhere in my dorm to make lunch that would ethically and legally be edible for me to eat. Two: I could technically take home the expired food from work, but I’m honestly so sick of Starbucks food that the mere thought of eating any of it is nauseating now. And three, I can’t afford to freaking buy food all the time just so I can eat for an hour before any of my classes.”

“Yes but there’s a whole school cafeteria that’s included in your tuition here,” Kuroo rolls his eyes at me. 

“You never offer to take me there,” I lean back against the tree we’ve taken a seat under and cross my arms. 

“Why do you need me to take you?” Kuroo laughs, he gives me his second half of the sandwich. I glance at it, I want to take it but I’m currently arguing how lunch isn’t important right now and if I take it then I lose-

“Just take it.” He pushes the sandwich closer to my face so that I’m within biting range. “There you go,” Kuroo chuckles at me for eating it out of his hand, but sits back relaxed now that I am eating. 

“I don’t _need_ you to take me,” I say after swallowing a bite, he gently places the rest of the sandwich into my hand. “I just don’t like big places with a lot of people, but if you’re always on me about not having a proper lunch, I think taking me to the cafeteria saves you a little money _and_ your lunch doesn’t get eaten.” I take another bite, holding back a moan from how delicious it is.

“Okay I’ll keep that in mind,” he pauses and looks content at the sight of me eating. “I don’t mind paying for you to eat, by the way. The cafeteria food kind of sucks, anyway.”

“For someone who doesn’t mind you sure love to complain about it,” I give him a teasing look and look out to the quad. Around us, people are doing the same as we are. I realize this is the first time I have actually eaten here, last year I kept inside the student art labs trying to get ahead or inside my dorm. My dorm mate last year was a music major who constantly wore headphones as she edited her projects, she was also _clean_. Man I miss her. 

“Will Kenma be joining us for lunch one of these days?” I ask, gulping down more of the sandwich. 

“What, I’m not enough company for you?” He smirks down at me, but breaks off eye contact and looks off at the quad too. “I’ll ask if he wants to join us.”

I laugh at his indifferent tone, “What aren’t you saying?”

Kuroo looks at me and smiles again, “He livestreams until it's super late, so if he doesn’t have to wake up before noon he won’t. And when he does have classes, he doesn’t know when to stop working sometimes. Kenma is another one I always have to make sure he eats. If he could be an organism that didn’t require food to eat in order for him to work or code, he would take it in a heartbeat. So anyway, if I were to wake him up with a phone call asking if he wanted to have lunch, I think he would actually scream.” He rolls his eyes at the thought before pensively drinking a green smoothie he made this morning. Despite the horrid color, Kuroo made me try it earlier and it’s actually pretty delicious. 

“Ah,” I nod. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to eat. But I get where Kenma comes from, when you’re having fun doing what you love it’s kind of hard to want to stop just so you can eat. But I get what you mean, you can’t keep going if you just stop eating.” I sit back against the tree, enjoying the food and the ambience before us. It's a gorgeous day paired with a refreshing breeze. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring a scrunchie today so my hair kept blowing into my face. My heart stops when Kuroo gently tucks my hair behind my ear. To make sure that I don't look like I absolutely and _completely_ enjoyed that, I lock eyes with him and stick my tongue out. 

“Well if you would’ve been smarter you would’ve tied your hair up,” he scoffs while pulling his hand away.

  
On one particular morning after a night out drinking , my phone buzzes and abruptly ends my blissful sleep. I groan and blindly look for my buzzing phone. With no luck, I’m forced to get up and actually open my very sleepy eyes. I push through the nausea and will myself to look for my phone. Somehow I find the stupid thing, barely registering who’s calling me I glare at my screen. 

“What?” I grumble, my head starts to point. 

“Good morning, _sunshine_! Why are you asleep? I thought you said you had a morning class today?” Kuroo is very cute, but hearing him tease me so early in the morning _and_ coupled with the fact he woke me up, is not very endearing at the moment. 

I look at the time and groan, “A couple of kids from my group project took me out drinking last night and I made the executive decision to skip everything today.”

Kuroo laughs, “Jeez, will I- well, will _we_ see you later at our practice?” 

I moan mournfully, “Ugh I guess. That’s if I don’t die.”

“Alright, I’ll send Kenma to check in on you. We actually have a proposition for you to go over with us.”

“That’s vague, sounds like you’re going to scam me.” I rub my eyes and yawn. 

“Shut up, hey what’s your dorm number? I bought you a drink,” Kuroo asks. 

“What did you get?”

“Well why don’t you tell me where you’re at and then you’ll see,” he chides. 

The thought of Kuroo in my dorm makes me a little uneasy. I quickly brush my teeth and make sure my wavy curls aren't too wonky or flat, even go as far to throw some of my clothes in a hamper and cover it with a blanket so he can’t see my dirty laundry. I have to re-brush my teeth, though, because I moved to fast for my body to handle and had to go throw up. _Seeing_ Kuroo, in my room is even stranger. I’m not the most organized person in the world, but my dorm mate makes me look like a saint. Frankly her mess embarrasses me, especially since Kuroo tries his best not to draw too much attention to it. His presence makes him loom larger, he subtly has to duck his head from under the door frame so he doesn’t accidentally bump it. 

“Thank you,” I gratefully take my drink and take a sip. “How’d you know what to get me?” I look at the sticker, it’s perfect. 

“You always order that, what do you mean? You look _fantastic_ by the way,” he gives me a lopsided grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Don’t be jealous that my bedhead is better than yours,” I glare at him while drinking my iced espresso. “What’s this proposition you have for me?”

“Oh uh, well, we don’t have to talk about it right _now_ ,” Kuroo massages his shoulder. 

“I mean I don’t want to make you late for class, so we can talk about it later if you really want. Or you can stop being lame and just ask.” I roll my eyes. Kuroo's gaze falls back over to Andrea's side, giving me the perfect opportunity to check him out. I wonder if he styles his hair like that, because the way it falls over his eyes is damn near a work of art. His sharp cheekbones catch the morning sunlight, his eyes drip a golden honey. It must be hot enough outside for him to be wearing shorts, my eyes graze down to his muscular thighs before I force myself to look up and stop actively drooling over him. Just in time too, because I catch his eyes right when he turns back to me. 

He grins. “Okay, fine. How much do you like living in this dorm on a scale of 1 to ‘you want to gouge your eyes out’?”

“Definitely thought about committing arson, not going to lie.” I lean against my bed frame, trying not to think about how tall he is and how I forgot to put on actual clothes so now I am here in my ratty gym shorts and old middle school t-shirt. _And no bra_ , I inwardly slap myself and self-consciously cross my arms over my chest. 

Kuroo laughs, “I figured. Well, I talked about it with Kenma and we know a place you can stay at.” He pauses. 

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. I sigh, he’s always for the dramatics. “ _Yes,_ Kuroo? Where is it?”

“Our place. We have an extra room,” He smiles expectantly. 

“Uh, well-, I-,” I laugh over my stammering, “Are you guys _sure_? You’ve known me for what? Three weeks? A month?” 

Kuroo rolls his eyes, “I wouldn’t be asking if we weren’t sure.”

“But, uh,” I laugh nervously again. “Again. _Are you sure?_ ”

“Alright fine,” he settles himself against my closed door, opposite of me. “How often do you clean?” I gesture to my side of the room and then the opposite. “Okay, sweet. Have you ever had difficulty paying rent on time?”

“No, but what _is_ the rent?” I ask and Kuroo hands me a folded paper that answers my question and a few more that were already forming on my tongue. 

“And it’ll be even cheaper divided by the three of us,” he nods at the paper. “Do you smoke?”

“No.”

“Party a lot?”

“No,” I laugh. “Do _you_?” 

He scrunches his nose (ugh, he’s so cute), “God no. Kenma and I don’t do a lot of parties, we only really have Kou and Keiji over. Uh, will, that be alright for you?”

“Yeah they’re awesome,” I grin. 

“And us? That’s important too, do you like our company?” Kuroo looks down at his hands briefly before making eye contact with me again. 

“Yes,” I say without pause. “This might be embarrassing, but you both are probably one of the few friends I’ve made since I’ve been here.” I shift my beverage to my other hand and add, “And Bokuto and Akaashi.”

“Well, I haven’t ever seen Kenma texting literally anyone else but us and a couple of people back from back home. Yet somehow you managed to get more than one word answers from him. I can barely get him to text me back sometimes.”

I laugh and shake my head still confused, “But again, like, you guys _barely_ know me.” 

“Sabi,” Kuroo smiles. “Just think about it, we had a chance to really think and talk about this so we’ll do you the same courtesy. Just let us know. None of us wanna see you miserable in this box.” He looks at his watch and sighs, “I gotta head out. I’ll tell Kenma you’re nursing a hangover so he can check up on you.”

“You don’t have to-” I hold out my hand in protest. 

“Oh, I don’t _have_ to do anything,” Kuroo smirks. “But, uh, let him know. Or me. We’re excited to have someone we actually like to be our roommate instead of some stranger.”

I take another sip of my drink hoping it’d hide any creeping blush over my cheeks, “I’ll think about it.”

“I look forward to it,” he grins, ruffling my hair. “See you later, kid.”

“See ya Kuroo,” I shut the door behind him and let out a breath. 

-(-)-

  
There’s a quiet knock. “Are you dead?” Someone calls out through my door. 

“Shh,” I hold my hand over my still throbbing temple and open my door. Kenma stands before me with his hair in a loose bun, some front pieces have fallen from the elastic and his pale golden eyes watch me amused that I still look like crap even this late in the afternoon. He smiles and hands me McDonald’s.

“Ugh, I don’t know if I can choke this down.” I take the food and the drink. _Thank god for sweet tea._

“Right,” Kenma sarcastically says because immediately I cave and eat the burger he got for me. He glances around my dorm not doing much to hide his disgust with my roommate's side. “Yeesh, she’s not coming back any time soon is she?”

“No,” I sigh. “Thankfully today is the one day she decided to go to class. Let's just hope she doesn’t bring her boyfriend back with her.”

“Let's," Kenma replies. "Did Kuroo talk to you?” 

“Yeah,” I happily take a long sip from the sweet tea. “It sounds nice. But like I told him, y’all _just_ met me.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, “And? You’re not boring.” 

“Thank you?” I cross my arms and quirk an eyebrow.

“Do you seriously want to keep living here?” He glances around the room again. 

“How late do you stay up?” I ask, he gives me a look but I gesture for him to answer. 

“Late,” he admits. “But I’m quiet, even when I’m streaming. I just ask that you guys give me the same courtesy.”

“Okay,” I shrug. “And Kuroo?”

“He only stays up if the guys come over and we play video games, we might actually get loud with that though to be honest.”

“That’s fine, I actually wouldn’t mind watching you guys play,” I pause to eat, and then think of another question. “Um, do you have a lot of girls over? Does Kuroo bring his girlfriend over a lot?”

At that, Kenma bursts laughing. “No and, uh, Heather lives in Japan.”

“She’s white?” I give him a quizzical look. 

“No,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes at the thought of her. “I think she chose it because she likes English names a lot more, so she made everyone call her that instead. I’m not even sure Kuroo knows her real name anymore.” He breaks the tiny silence. “Any other questions?” 

“How does Kuroo pay rent? I know _you’re_ , like, a professional gamer officially right?”

“Yeah, Kuroo is a TA for one of his professors. Oh!” Kenma snaps his fingers, “That’s another plus, you get free tutoring from Kuroo. He’s the reason I’ve never failed a test.” 

“Ohh,” I ponder on that. As much as I don’t want to admit it, my biggest worry is this childish crush I have on Kuroo. While it helps that I know he has a girlfriend, it wouldn’t help to live with him all the time. “How are chores divided?”

“Kuroo tends to be cleaner than me. The general rule of thumb is: if you make a mess you clean it up.” He sighs again when he looks at the other side of the room, “Dude just move in. We like you, you like us. You’re responsible, Kuroo’s even more responsible. No reason to live in the hell hole.”

No argument there. 

“Fine. Would you come with me to the student offices to get me outta here, then?” 

-(-)-


	6. Plop

“It makes working on a video game easier now that I’m moving in,” I say to Kenma. He gives me a shy smile. 

“Oi, and me? I have a dazzling mind that you can bounce ideas off of!” Kuroo chimes in with a grin.

“How did you and Bokuto-san get the idea that you guys are the pinnacle of genius minds?” Kenma scoffs, “Just admit that I am better at something than you.” 

“Hey I play video games-“

“You couldn’t animate a ball falling,” I chime in. His cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment. 

“Oh that hurts! I used to make those sticky note doodles! The ones in school where you make a stick person walk?” Kuroo huffs. 

“Testū, hush, the geniuses are talking.” Kenma holds his hand up to his face. Kuroo gapes at his friend. 

We round the corner towards my dorm, they let me lead the way up the stairs. They’re quietly having a back and forth in Japanese behind me, while I fish for my keys. I open the door and find my room empty, thankfully. Looking back at them, they’re so enthralled in their little argument that I decide to gather my things. I don’t really have much, besides my laptop and art supplies. Some of my clothes are still in my suitcase, unpacked because just the mere idea of my roommate’s trash touching any of my stuff makes me want to gag. On my side of the room, I have a few posters I made taped on the wall. Carefully, I peel them off and roll them into my packaging tubes. 

The two are still playfully arguing when they start to help carry my stuff. 

“Thank you,” I breathe out, giving Kuroo my suitcase and Kenma my posters. 

I keep my laptop and bookbag on me. It’s a short walk, but I still feel partially bad for making them carry my stuff. When I asked them why they decided to live closer to the music majors than the STEM buildings they shrugged and said that the Japanese Exchange program gave them suggestions for housing, and they went with the cheapest rent. 

“Do you have your keys?” Kuroo asks Kenma, who’s been digging in his pockets. 

“Yeah but I don’t know if I left them in-,” He stops short and let’s out an agitated sigh. “I left them across campus at the gym. I don’t wanna go _all the way back, my legs already feel like jelly!_ ” 

“You’re so lazy,” Kuroo laughs and takes his own house keys out. 

It’s a small one-story house, with plants and flowers outside the front steps which I assume is from the landlord. When Kuroo pushes the door open using his shoulder, there’s a gust of AC. Collectively, we sigh in relief from the humidity and heat. Kenma gestures for me to follow him down the hallway off the side, I have the last room. 

“So,” Kenma sets my posters on my new bed. “Uh, our WiFi password is on the fridge. Your room is actually the biggest. Kuroo and I kept fighting on who should get the biggest room, and we decided to just get the smaller bedrooms.”

I laugh. “He wanted the bigger one?” 

Kenma looks up at me with a strange look, “No actually. He wanted me to have it, and I said that was ridiculous. I told Kuroo that he should’ve gotten it because he’s bigger than me. He said that I needed the space for my PCs. In the end we couldn’t agree and we left it alone.”   
  


Huh.

“So who’s my neighbor?” I ask casually. Carefully I take out the posters and figure out where on my new walls they should go. 

“Kuroo is. He’s quiet though, don’t worry. He’s usually studying if he’s not playing games with me.” 

I nod, and start to unpack. Kenma leaves me to my things, Kuroo is on the phone with Heather when he drops off my suitcase at my door. I didn’t really think of Kuroo as quiet, I guess when I first interacted with him he was quiet. But since I’ve been talking with him and seeing him with his friends, I’ve grown to see how he actually is. He’s lively, confident, dorky. It’s a stark contrast now though. Ever since his girlfriend called him a half hour ago, every time I catch a glimpse of him he’s quiet and there’s a strange shadow over his face. I only really hear her muffled voice. I don’t know a lot of Japanese, but the parts that I do catch aren't exactly friendly. 

There isn’t much stuff I have, so I go down the hallway and find Kenma setting up a video game to play. Behind the couch is a little kitchen, where Kuroo is rummaging around before taking off to his room. Behind his closed door you hear his muffled voice still talking on the phone. 

“Hey, do you want to be player two?” Kenma glances at me. 

I stutter, “I- uh, actually haven’t played that game-“

“That’s okay, it’s like Final Fantasy-“ Kenma is cut off by Kuroo’s speaking into the phone, pleading in Japanese. 

Kenma rolls his eyes and puffs out his cheeks. 

“You okay?” I ask.He shrugs. I wait quietly, not wanting to push him. 

Kenma looks over his shoulder and then back at me, with a whisper he says, “ _I can’t stand Heather._ ”

His unexpected confession makes me laugh. I glance down the hallway where Kuroo has holed himself into his room, “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

He takes a moment and hesitates, “Don’t tell Kuroo,” Kenma looks up at me, “But she used to go to our middle school. Her friend group had a lot of boys who bullied me,” He rolls his eyes dismissively, “-and she was always that person who just sat back and laughed. I don’t know, maybe she’s changed since then but she and some of her friends used to really...” He trails off, sighing. I fill in the blanks. “Anyway, she’s still super annoying to me.” 

“And Kuroo doesn’t know?” Kenma shakes his head.

“No,” He fiddles with the game system. “They’re already a little shaky, she was supposed to move in this past summer but she backed out last second. I don’t wanna be the reason he breaks up with her, he needs to come to _that_ on his own if he ever decides to.”

I can’t help but ask further, “Why not tell him? I don’t think he’d break up with her just because you don’t like her.” 

“Eh I mean he would,” Kenma carefully chooses his next words. “I just want him to be happy. And I think it would hurt him to know that his girlfriend was one of the people who made my life a living hell back in middle school.” The loading screen brightens the room and plays soft mystical music. I wonder if Kenma is happy. 

“I’m sorry,” he rubs his neck. “I-, I don’t normally talk about these things to people. I hope I didn’t, uh, make you uncomfortable-.”

“It’s okay! Really. You don't ever have to apologize for opening up, we can always talk if you need to.” Kenma nods and his shoulders relax. 

“After I take a shower I’m down to learn a new game,” I catch his eyes and smile, Kenma smiles back shyly. 

The bathroom is across from my room, the only downside is that I think it’s the only one. Quietly locking the bathroom door, I look around. Normally I wouldn’t want to snoop, but since I’m going to live here I kind of want to know who I’m living with. There’s no medicine cabinet, I look through the drawers and only see the two toothbrushes and see a toothpaste brand I don’t recognize. In the drawer underneath there’s a comb and brush, gel, razors and shaving cream. On the opposite end, it’s empty.

I turn on the shower and unpack my products inside the empty shelves. Hopefully one of them has lived with a girl or a sister at some point because already I have the most stuff. I start to play music on my phone when I hear someone yelling, my heart quickens for a moment until I realize it’s nothing serious. I guess his phone call is over, because when I crack open the bathroom door to peek down the hallway, Kenma and Kuroo are playfully arguing in Japanese. Whenever Kenma gets a word in, he manages to provoke Kuroo more. They still have a back and forth going when they start playing the video game. Kuroo teasingly pushes Kenma’s side whose face has broken out into a blinding smile. 

I softly close the door again and sigh. Honestly I didn’t expect my year to be this way. It’s weird that this random guy I thought was cute, ends up being on a team in which I agreed to be a manager for, because I need to finish a project. Now I’m here. 

I thank God that we have good water pressure. 

I hum while putting on fresh clothes. When I walk out to the living room, the boys are still playing pretty loudly. Their eyes are glued to the screen, both sit at the foot of the couch. Kenma sits crossed legged while Kuroo sits on his knees leaning forward as if it’ll allow his character to move faster. My movement catches Kuroo’s eyes, he does a double take. 

“What. Is. On. Your. Head?” He laughs. Kenma glances over but keeps playing. 

I cross my arms, “It’s a t-shirt. It’s called plopping.” I take a seat behind where Kenma placed himself. 

“But- wait I think there’s someone behind... shoot shoot!” Kenma doesn’t hesitate and follows suit with Kuroo’s character. “But why?” He repeats himself. 

“It’s better for your hair than drying with a towel. Especially if you have wavy or curly hair, like mine,” I explain. 

“You shouldn’t hate on her hair routine, Testū. Considering you have a rat nest on top of your head.” Kenma flatly says, before taking out an enemy character on screen. Kuroo grabs the pillow next to me and smacks him with it. The two focus back on their game, I watch trying to get a sense of their missions. 

“So what happens when you collect all those stones?” I break the silence. 

“You get an achievement-.”

“Absolutely nothing!” Kenma and Kuroo talk over themselves. 

“Hey! Achievements count,” I defend Kenma. 

“Not when-,” Kuroo curses in Japanese. “Not when you’re trying to have the quickest playthrough, though.” 

I hum in response. After another twenty minutes I start taking down my plop, gently arranging my wet curls so they don’t cover my eyes. I try not to notice the way Kuroo is staring at me while Kenma had paused the game to grab water for them. He doesn’t look away when I stare back at him. 

“What?” I roll my eyes impatiently. 

“Did you always do your hair like that?” Kuroo leans his head back against the couch, his soft hair brushes against my bare knee. _Why does he have to be so cute?_

I chuckle, “No. I figured out after high school that I had more than just poofy wavy-ish hair.” 

“What do you do differently?”

I let out a breath. “Ahh, I stopped brushing my hair when it was dry. Um, I got hair products that don’t have sulphate or silicones, tested different product application methods. Lots of YouTube tutorials. It’s a lot, but I think I have my routine down to something that isn’t too complicated now. I stopped trying to expect the same results each time, so I just hope it doesn’t look terrible each morning.” 

“Your hair is pretty. That was the first thing I noticed when I saw you at your job.” He adjusts so that he’s reclining against the couch while his arms hold him steady behind me. I really wish his words didn’t have an effect on me, thankfully the dark room is my saving grace. 

I cough to hide my face, “Which reminds me. Since we are going to be roommates now and I'm your manager, I’m going to formally request you stop ordering Frappuccinos from me.” 

“Request denied,” he nods a thank you to Kenma who hands him a cold water bottle. 

“What-, they’re such a pain to make!” I scoff, “And you ordered a layered frap. _Which_ means I have to put more effort into it while I have six other drinks with the most insane-!”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know someone forced you to get this job-,” I flick his forehead. 

“Ow!” Kuroo rubs his forehead. Kenma just watches silently, completely enjoying his cocky friend being knocked down a few notches. I don’t think it’s in my head either when I noticed Kuroo had just now started to relax after his call with Heather. 

“I really like them, okay? And yours was so cute, it could’ve been in a commercial! I took a picture here,” Kuroo fishes out his phone from his pocket and opens up his camera roll. There’s three pictures of the drink and another four of him drinking and posing with Kenma with it. 

“You’re such a dork!” I giggle, my cheeks start to hurt from how much I’m smiling. He lets me take hold of his phone so I can swipe between his selfies. “This is definitely _not_ just one picture.” Glancing at Kuroo, his cheeks tint. 

“Kuroo was really disappointed that the s’mores flavor was only in the States,” Kenma explains while also offering me a water bottle.

“Japan has the best flavors ever and you’re thirsting for s’mores?” 

I’m unscrewing the water bottle cap when Kuroo scoffs, “I don’t _just_ drink Frappuccinos.” 

“Oh yeah? What else do you order?” I wish I could stop my heart skipping when he looks back at me. 

He hesitates too long and I can’t help laughing. He looks away with an embarrassed grin and shrugs. “I have to treat myself! Volleyball comes with a lot of training, and I won’t deny myself Starbucks just because _you_ don’t want to work.” He blocks another playful hit to his head. 

“Did you want to keep going or...” Kenma draws Kuroo back to the TV. 

“Actually, Sabi wanted to learn right? Here I’ll just move over.” I scooch down to the minimal space he provided me and I push down the butterflies from being so close to him. Kuroo hands me the controller and points out the different functions. I wish I could pay attention but his fingers graze mine and my brain turns to mush. Kuroo tries to explain something else while Kenma starts a new fresh game. 

“This is going to be really embarrassing,” I start to move my character on screen, trying to catch up to Kenma. “But I’m really bad at video games. Like I know I want to design them, I really enjoy watching other people play, than myself. Which is incredibly stupid, but if I can’t do it right the first time I just get super frustrated-!” I yell when there’s a surprise attack. “Jesus!” I try to remember which button Kuroo said was used to fight, but panic makes me more flustered. 

Kuroo tries to stifle a giggle, “You clearly didn't listen to a word I said. Do you want me to show you?” I nod and expect him to take the controller, instead he moves my fingers to where they need to be. 

“You’re doing pretty good,” Kenma reassures. “Kuroo died like three times at this point.”

“Stop making me sound so lame,” Kuroo leans in and helps direct me through the game. “Kenma is going to be your bodyguard for this level, just until you get used to the controls and won’t have to jump every time a bush moves.” He playfully elbows my side, I let out a nervous laugh. 

The longer we play, the more I get used to the game. When I’m fighting alongside Kenma, every once in a while Kuroo whispers directions in my ear if he sees me hesitating. It’s extremely hard for me to breathe, I hate that he’s having this affect on me and I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. It’s hard, because I’ve met guys who would’ve just taken the controller from me. Who would’ve just told me to press a button and not explain to me what I’m doing, or would’ve made fun of me for wanting the major I’m going for and it taking me a while to really get good at a video game. As much as he acts like this cool guy, he’s being super sweet. Kuroo hadn't stopped teasing me, don’t get me wrong, but the longer I’m near him the more comfortable I get. 

There’s a sudden knock on our front door right when Kenma and I are planning a secret attack, I can't help jumping and curse. Kuroo gets up and let’s in Bokuto and Akaashi. From the corner of my eye I can see them greet Kuroo with a quick hug and handshake. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto says, loudly. Very loudly. 

“Bokuto it’s 2am,” Akaashi sighs.. _Wait what?_ I quickly look behind me, searching for the time set above the oven. Sure enough, I’ve been playing for hours already with Kenma. 

“Hey, Sabrina!” Bokuto steps over us and flops onto the couch. He holds up a fist bump from behind me.

“Bokuto, she’s playing.” Kuroo chides, he leans into me so he can let Akaashi sit on the couch too. 

“It’s okay,” Without removing my eyes off the screen I quickly bump his fist and go back to playing. 

From behind me Akaashi whistles, “This level sucks. I died like 8 times before I was able to complete it.”

“I’ve died like three times, I’ll catch up.” I laugh. Kenma dies in the game and sighs disappointedly. 

I stifle a yawn, “I actually have class in the morning and work tomorrow. Does anyone want my controller?” I hold it in the air; Akaashi reaches for it. 

“Do you need a ride home?” Bokuto helps steady me as I try to stand up from my spot. 

“She lives here,” Kenma takes a sip of his water while waiting for Akaashi to choose a character. 

“Wow really?” Akaashi asks and glances at me. 

“Yeah I figured living with these guys is better than that rank dorm-, oof sorry.” I pat Kuroo’s head apologetically because I accidentally hit him. I make my way back into the kitchen to get one last water bottle for the night. 

“Aw man, you should’ve lived with us!” Bokuto laughs. 

“Seriously think _we_ are the better option than you living with Bokuto,” Kenma cackles. 

Akaashi flicks Kenma but Kuroo is quick to smack him on the head, inciting Bokuto to hit Kurroo back. I roll my eyes amused, but when I see Kuroo making his way to the kitchen I panic. I quickly turn myself back to face the fridge, but he’s already caught my eyes and I know I’m coming off more suspicious than I mean to. 

“I don’t know,” I sing-song to cover my nervousness, “It would’ve been fun to live with you guys.”

“We would’ve offered if we had a third room!” Bokuto yells back at me. 

“Ah so if the _other teammates_ had offered a place for you to stay, you would’ve taken it?” Kuroo asks, his voice low and teasing. He crouches beside me after opening the fridge door wider, our faces are inches apart now. By the “other teammates”, he’s not just talking about his friends. I scoff and he hums back satisfied. If he’s purposely trying to get under my skin it’s working, but two can play at that. 

“Well,” I lick my lips and allow myself the satisfaction to glance at his pink lips and back up to his golden eyes, “I guess if I had to choose I’d go with the ones I thought are cutest.” 

“Really.” He deadpans, his eyes shining, a small smirk playing on his lips. He subtly glances down from my eyes, and I feel my rueful grin widen. 

“Uh huh,” I smile now. “Is Kenma single?” 

Kuroo’s face is priceless. His cheeks flush a deep red, and he coughs to try and hide it. Kuroo’s eyes narrow at my giggling amusement, he places his chilled water bottle over his cheeks in the hopes of tampering down the bright redness. 

“Haha, funny. Goodnight, Sabi.”

“Goodnight!” I start to walk down the hallway. 

The rest of the boys chime together in response and keep playing. Kuroo is left in the kitchen, his eyes following me down the dark hallway. 

-(-)-

The boys come over each night for a week around midnight and don’t leave until 3am. I’m a little surprised to see that none of them ever leave a mess. I’m even more surprised to see Kuroo up at 8am with me. He’s drinking tea and reading something on his phone. 

“Ohayo gozaimasu,” I greet him gently. 

He looks up at me surprised.. “Ohayo gozaimasu,” he responds. 

“Is it okay if I speak to you guys in Japanese every once in a while? I have Japanese courses starting soon, I want to get ahead of the curve,” I remember how my mom ranting about how annoying she finds people who try to get free spanish lessons from her and I start to backtrack, “But if not, that’s okay! I don’t wanna like, use your guys, or be weird about it? I-, well, uh, you’re not obligated to tutor me. Agh. Sorry?” I blubber on. 

Kuroo laughs, “I don’t mind, really. Please, use me.” He flinches, “For Japanese I mean. Or studying! I make Kenma study all the time, so it’s not a burden.” 

“Oh sweet,” My shoulders relax, “I’ll take you up on those study groups, too. Last year, I was barely scraping by with my stupid classes.” 

“Really?” Kuroo looks up from his tea, “I thought you had a scholarship though?”

“I do,” I open one of the cabinets and take out a small pour-over. “But I made the mistake of taking advanced, like, math classes and it nearly screwed me over.” I carefully measure ground coffee into my filter and set a kettle of water to heat up on the stove. 

“You didn’t have any study groups?” 

“Freshmen are douches,” I vaguely reply. “Like my entire freshman year last year sucked, only in my art classes did I meet kinda okay people but I was… yeah.”

I lean against the counter and rub my eyes. “I had a lot of family stuff going on, so I didn’t really try to make friends.”

Kuroo hums, “You have friends now though.”

I glance at him and roll my eyes, “Yes I guess you and Kenma count.” 

“Haha,” he says dryly. “Bokuto and Akaashi think you’re their friend now too, you know. And our team really likes you, you’re fun to be around.”

I don’t respond, concentrating on not smiling like an idiot. Unfortunately, Kuroo catches my face and smirks. 

“Don’t let it get to your head, please.”

“I’m _not_ ,” I scoff. “God, you’re so annoying.” I pour the hot water over my coffee grounds in a circular motion, ignoring the heat rising on my cheeks from Kuroo watching me make my coffee.

“Did you teach Kenma that?” Kuroo nods at my pour-over, “Because he literally refused to tell me how to do that the other day and told me to google it.”

I burst laughing, “Oh my god! Yeah I showed him because he was complaining about not wanting to buy a whole coffee machine. Which is hilarious because he literally can just buy one of those one cup coffee machines, but yeah I showed him how to make his own pour-over.”

“I don’t know why he couldn’t just tell me that,” Kuroo pouts.

“Oh, I bet you were coming off as desperate to know,” I chuckle. 

“I was _not_ desperate,” He sips his tea. 

“Uh huh, literally you and Bokuto don’t have the ability to let things go. And you love gossip..” 

“You’ve only lived with me for a week, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he dismisses me with a wave. 

“Which further proves my point,” I chuckle. I lean on the counter, watching the coffee slowly trickle down into my mug. 

Kuroo starts to say something, but he stutters and stops. I glance over and quirk an eyebrow. He laughs and shakes his head, his cheeks starting to rosy. 

“Sorry, uh, I was debating on asking but I guess I should. How’s your first week here been? Like, are you feeling comfortable, any requests for us as your roommates?” Kuroo’s hand nervously tugs the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Hmm,” I bite my cheek and think, “Um it’s been good so far, I think my only thing is for you to stop using my shampoo and conditioner.” I give him a knowing, teasing smile before throwing away my coffee filter. 

“I am not using your stuff! Why would you say that?” Kuroo sputters. 

“Because Kenma says he hasn’t,” I shrug, pouring cream into my coffee. 

“And you believe _him_?”

“No,” I admit while laughing. “But since my week here, my bottles are barely full while you’re guys’ stuff has literally stayed the same weight.”

Kuroo flushes, “I-, okay I tried it once. But only once! I was curious, it smells really good. You can go ahead and blame Kenma for using the rest of your hair stuff.”

Giggling I stir in my creamer, “Well that’s my only thing so far. Next time just ask if you wanna try it.”

“What days do you work again?” I can’t help but laugh at his sudden change in topics, he carefully types my answer into his phone. 

I peak over, “Do you have notes on… your friends?”

He glances at me, “Yeah it’s a thing I’ve done back home to keep track of opposing volleyball players, but it started when I first met Kenma.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, but for my friends it’s stuff like when they work or when they have exams so I can help them. Or what snacks they like at hangouts, stats.”

“Stats?” I start to down my coffee, taking note that I have to leave soon. “Stats on _what_?”

Kuroo laughs, “I’m kidding. Although, I have suspicions that Kenma actually does keeps stats on all of us. I have yet to find out where he keeps them though.” 

“Agh, I gotta go to class. So I probably won’t be back until 9 or so,” I stuff a clean work apron into my bag. “I have classes until noon, and at 1p I go to work until closing.” 

“I can walk you home from work,” Kuroo rinses out his empty mug and places it in the dishwater. 

“Oh it’s okay, I don’t mind walking by myself-” 

“You’re going to be walking all day, there’s no reason for you to walk alone at night.” 

“And you’re gonna be right out of practice! You’re going to be exhausted-.” 

“And? It’ll be like extra training, it’ll teach me to have more endurance or something,” he grins. Clearly I’m not going to win this one. 

“Sure.” I roll my eyes, giving in. 

“Just let me know when you need me to pick you up, okay?” 

I nod distractedly, but I’m giggling at my phone. 

“What?” He asks annoyed.

“I’m in a group chat with Kenma, Bokuto and Akaashi.” I walk over to Kuroo, “I’m just catching up on their messages from last night."

“They’re so lame for leaving me out…” he mutters.

I laugh again, “I’ll just add you in don’t be jealous. Why are you even up, by the way? I went to bed at like 2:30, you guys were up for hours it seemed like.” 

“We didn’t keep you up did we?” He waits for me to shake my head. “Good good.” Kuroo rubs his eyes, “They didn’t leave until 4, I think? And then Heather called so I stayed up talking to her.” 

“Damn Kuroo,” I eye him. “So why are you up again?” 

“I have a class at 9:30. And I need to go over my notes,” he stifles a yawn. “The guys should’ve left earlier.”

“Or, you know. Maybe, Heather doesn’t call when it’s 4am,” I take a swig from my water bottle and gather my things. 

“She gets weird if I don’t answer,” Kuroo sighs. He takes one look at my face and rolls his eyes, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” I raise my hands defensively. “Take a nap today when you can.” I pat him on the shoulder and gather my things.

“I’ll see you later,” I wave a goodbye closing the door before I can see if he waves back at me. 

-(-)-


	7. Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: there’s an attempted assault

I think I sleep through most of my first class. I remember walking in and taking my seat all the way in the back, opening my laptop, and then jumping awake because my phone buzzed right next to my face. I glance at the professor who continues the lecture without noticing, and then turn my phone over to see who texted me. 

**testū:**

**i should’ve slept in :(**

I reread the text over again, doing nothing to hide a sleepy smile stretching across my face. My thumb lingers over his contact picture, it was a goofy selfie he forced me to take with him during one of our practices. If I were to tap on it, I’d be able to see better his annoying smirk and the sweat sheen across his forehead. In the picture you can also see how much he enjoyed my disdain for him pressing his gross and sweaty body against mine, his arm holding me next to him tightly. You can also see a faint blush on the apples of my cheeks. 

**me:**

**i should’ve stayed in bed :/**

**me:**

**also I literally forgot you have a first name, im that tired**

**me:**

**I say that because you put your first name in my phone and it took me a second to figure out who texted me**

While the professor keeps droning on, I’m thoroughly regretting every decision that led to me thinking it was a good idea taking this class this early in the morning. I tilt my head against my hand and feel the weight of my eyelids droop down… _I can afford to fail this class…_

Another buzz wakes me up again.   
  


**tets** **ū:**

**ouch :c**

**me:**

**I can barely stay awake ://///////**

**tetsū:**

**same**

**tetsū:**

**ur gong to have to keep my awake**

**me:**

**gong**

**tetsū:**

**onviusly i meant going**

**me:**

**you’re a terrible speller**

**tetsū:**

**let’s count how many languages I know and you know and then we can talk about who’s good at spelling**

**me:**

**😀**

**me:**

**I hope you fall asleep in class 😌✨✨ bye**

**tetsū:  
** **no wait come back**

Despite being on my phone for the majority of the class, somehow texting Kuroo back and forth helped me take better notes. I make the mistake of telling him this, in response he sends me a mixture of twenty messages that praises himself along with memes. I tap my fingers on my desk, my irritation growing when I feel the 27th buzz. 

As I’m walking to my next class, I’m typing another message to Kuroo when I feel someone tap my shoulder. I half expect Akaashi or even one of my classmates, instead there’s a guy I don’t know smiling at me. I keep walking, thinking he got the wrong person but he meets my stride down the hallway. I’m forced to pause my music, and stop to take a look at the man who is adamant in talking to me. 

“Sorry, hold on.” I slip off my headphones. “What’s up?” I shuffle awkwardly off to the side of the hallway, students roll through and push him a little closer to me than I like. 

“I’m Marcus, I’m in your class.” He smiles, “I was wondering if you want to study together at the library?” 

I blink. 

“I have to work,” I smile apologetically. My brain is scrambling to remember what class we even have together. 

“Okay, maybe when you don’t work then.” He smiles again. I scan his face for any trace of recognition, and come up empty. 

“I don’t need to study,” I smirk, annoyance creeping in my voice. 

“Oh I see, you’re the type that doesn’t study and then aces tests.” He laughs sarcastically and makes an effort to touch my shoulder, his touch burns on my skin. 

“Right,” I narrow my eyes and smile at him disdainfully. I put my headphones back in and move into the crowd again, hoping the density will hide me. Marcus finds me again though and grabs my shoulder to slow me down. I shift away from under his touch and try to walk faster. He puts a hand on the small of my back and quickly moves us to the side of the hallway again.

“Sorry, I got off on the wrong foot. I’m not very good at talking to people, especially those who are pretty.” It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. He steps closer to me, I have my back pressed against a wall. “I just need a little help for this class. I was told by my counselor that this class is going to determine how far I go into my major and I need help. You know that homework assignment we have? I have no idea what I’m looking at. So could we have like maybe just an hour at the library, go over a few issues I have and that’s it?”

 _Oh, you have a few issues alright_. But I have a migraine coming on; my hard exterior is starting to crack under the pressure of being exhausted. I sigh rubbing my temple, I want to grit my teeth and just say no. But he is doing this to me in a public place, people move around us glaring at our obstruction of traffic. 

“I have a study period at 11.” I want more than anything for this to be over and him to leave me alone. I sigh, “I have to work right after so if you’re available then that’s great. But that’s the only time I can do for you.” I push past him, wanting more than anything to reverse my words. I hope he has a class at 11. 

“I’ll see you in the library!”

The closer my study period gets, the more my anxiety tightens in my stomach. I stop outside the library doors, everything in me screams and tells me to just keep walking and ghost Marcus. But the other part of me that was raised to be polite, tells me to suck it up for an hour. When I push through the library doors, the library assistant is on lunch. No one is here. The anxiety in the pit of my stomach aches more. I try to drown out my thoughts with music, turning the volume as loud as I dare to. I wring my hands together, usually there’s people in the library but today of all days it’s empty. I pick a table closest to the front door, I put my stuff on the seat next to me so that this Marcus guy is forced to sit across from me. 

I check my watch once, twice, four times. 

He’s late, I keep bouncing my leg on the ball of my foot. Maybe if he’s late, I can run out of here. I’ll give him five more minutes before I just leave. But if he’s in one of my classes, he will just confront me about ditching him. Do I really want to have this interaction all over again? I try my best to remember him, but something about all of this keeps leaving an unsettling taste in my mouth. After another five minutes I start to pack my things when I hear it. He bursts through the doors, a broad smile spread across his too pretty face. His blue eyes pierce through mine, and I feel myself stiffen. He grabs hold of my things and sets them on the floor beside me, sitting in the very chair that I had blocked off. 

“Hiya,” he leans over to his book bag and retrieves a laptop. “Sorry for being late, I had to shake off these girls who...” He keeps talking, but his voice is so annoying I can’t keep track of this stupid story. 

I hum in response. It’s quiet now. I’m wondering why he hasn’t taken out the homework we supposedly have, I’m wondering why I am here in the first place. Why was I such an idiot? 

“W-what class do we have together, uh again?” I laugh too quickly, maybe I shouldn’t have implied I don’t remember him. His movements next to me stops short, he looks at me and has a strange look on his face...

“You don’t know? It’s World Religion.” My blood stops cold. I don’t have World Religion. A millennia passes, I am staring at his eyes while panic stiffens my muscles. He stares back at me with a small smile. It doesn’t reach his icy eyes. 

“I-I have to go.” I nervously chuckle, grabbing my stuff as quickly as I can. He holds my wrist tightly, I can’t move from the table. 

“I’m sorry for lying! I panicked, I was really hoping you were taking some basic classes still, but clearly you’re just as smart as you are pretty. It hurts, though, to hear you say that you don’t even know me... You can’t tell me that you don’t know me,” he laughs indignantly, “Every day, for the past three weeks you make eye contact with me in the hallway. Every day we pass by, and you purposely brush against me. For two weeks, you’ve been teasing me. Toying with my heart. You’re just so beautiful, and smart. I know you’d never talk to a guy like me-.” 

I stare at him horrified. “What? What are you talking about? I have no idea who you are!” Marcus stares at me, his hand still squeezing my wrist and it starts to hurt. 

“Let go of me, _now_ .” My eyes fiercely stare into his, daring him to blink first. I can feel the tension between us grow.I try to pull away one more time, but he brings me impossibly closer and forces his mouth onto mine. I try to twist away from his grip, but his other hand holds down my waist. It hurts so much. Panic brings forth hot tears that prick my eyes, when I feel his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. _This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can't-_ I bite down as hard as I can.   
  


Despite his scream, I hold down angrily until I can feel the taste of his blood in my mouth. He pushes me away, for a moment I look at him stunned. My senses flood back and I scramble to collect my things. I swing my bag over my shoulder, I’m so close to the door when Marcus grabs me by my bag and drags me away from it towards him. 

“You bith me!” His eyes are furious. “You crathy bi-!”

I kick him and push down him as hard as I can. I bolt out the library. I’m running, 

running, 

running.

The taste of his saliva and blood in my mouth, the sting of tears on my face. I don’t know what’s worse, the ache in my wrist from where he grabbed me or the shame. Shame for being so stupid. Shame for putting myself there, in the first place. I hear my name, somewhere. But I keep running straight. It’s when I feel his arms around me again that panic resurfaces.. 

“Get off! Get off!” I cry and pound my fists against him. I expect to see Marcus, but instead it's Kuroo. He’s holding me gently, his golden eyes are wide with shock. His lips part and his eyebrows furrow in bewilderment. My hands shake between us. 

“You’re- you’re bleeding?” His hand grazes my chin to swipe Marcus’ blood off my skin, my knees buckle and I start to cry hysterically at his words. I sink to the concrete and turn my head towards the grass and gag, I spit out his traces from my mouth, I wipe vigorously around my lips to get rid of him. 

“It’s not-,” I gasp through my sobbing. “It’s not mine. It's not my blood.” I bring my fist to my mouth hoping it’ll stop my hysteria from spilling out. 

Kuroo kneels in front of me, he holds me close while I whimper into his body. His hand gently holds my ear to his chest. Intentionally? I’ll never know. But his steady heartbeat and the warmth from being in his arms calms my breathing to a small whimpering. He holds me until I’m hiccuping, until it’s just a steady flow of tears down my face. Shame rises in me, too many people are privy to this breakdown and now Kuroo is here to witness it as well. 

“Don’t- don’t you have class?” I sniffle. I wipe my nose with my sleeve, feeling awful for getting his shirt wet with my tears. 

“I was going home to sleep,” One arm holds me close and the other hand softly caresses my hair. I feel a whine leaving my throat at the thought of him being so kind to me when someone had just... just... 

He stays with me crouched patiently, holding me tighter when I feel my mind slipping back and I can’t help the sobs coming from inside my chest. My hands grip onto his shirt as I bite down the panic from rising in me again. Kuroo whispers to me, sweet words of encouragement. Words made of honey. Never once does he tell me not to cry. 

I don’t really remember getting home, if I think too much about it my head hurts. I know Kuroo had gently helped me back to my feet, he carried my things alongside his own. I vaguely remember him gently asking me what happened, and I must’ve told him because while I lay in bed I can hear him in the living room talking to two other adults. I force my eyes shut, hoping this is a god awful nightmare. Shame in my chest, shame in my heart. There are people who have had worse happen, more awful things have happened to others and I’m crying because, what? Some boy kissed me when I didn’t want to? 

“Sabi?” I open my eyes, wet with tears. Kuroo stands in my doorway with a shy smile. Next to him is a man and woman in uniform, campus police. “They need to hear from you what happened, okay? Do you want me to leave or..?”

“Please stay,” I whisper hoarsely. He nods and steps in, he sits awkwardly next to me in bed. I push myself up, my knees close to my chest. Next to me, Kuroo keeps his head down when I recount what happened. When they leave, she hands me a card to call. I numbly take it, knowing I won’t use it. Kuroo glances at me and then moves out of my room to see them out from our home. When Kuroo comes back to my doorway, I can’t seem to meet his eyes. I cross my arms over my knees and look out the window to the left of me, my eyes flutter shut. 

“Can I come in?”

I barely can nod. 

The bed shifts next to me, the warmth from his body calls for me to just lie next to him and sleep forever. I stay put, though, keeping my eyes closed. 

“I shouldn’t have gone to that library. I tried to be-, no matter what I did him he just kept asking, and talking so loud in that stupid hallway. It was like he was trying to see if I was actually going to keep being such a cold hearted-,” I groan in my hands. “-I shouldn’t have cared so much! I should’ve just said no and keep walking!” 

Kuroo doesn’t say anything beside me. I turn to look at him suddenly and intensely, he blinks in surprise. 

“I-I, I know better.” I bitterly laugh, “I know better! I do! And yet I caved in because here was this guy as annoying as he was, wasn’t taking no for an answer. He is bigger than me, he was stronger-“ My voice starts to break and thicken with tears all over again. I shake it off, because I’m so sick of crying over this. I turn my head back to the window, shut my eyes, and force myself to try to stop crying. 

“I know I can’t change what you’re feeling, but this isn’t your fault. It isn’t, he’s a freaking _prick_ who is sick, and it isn’t your fault.” I don’t answer him. 

“I called your job,” Kuroo adds quietly. “Your manager Alec was there, like you said. I didn’t say what happened, I just said there was an emergency and you couldn’t make it. Alec said not to worry, and that he hopes you’ll be okay.” I only vaguely remember asking Kuroo to do that as a favor for me. 

“You have practice tonight.” I sniff and make my voice sound indifferent. 

“I can stay home.” His voice low and warm, easily melting the icy exterior that even _I_ don’t know why I’m building. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff, wiping my nose with my sleeve. “Don’t stay home because of me, I’ll feel even worse.”

“I’m not staying home because of you.” I open my eyes and turn my head towards him. “I’m staying home to watch cheesy movies on Netflix because I’ve had a crappy day.” I laugh softly, my body relaxes hearing him laugh with me too. Kuroo sits with his knees close to his chest, his face tilting to face mine, his hair partially covering his golden eyes. I feel my heart aching for what isn’t mine, and I stretch out my legs. 

“Your day was crappy?” I sniff and smile weakly, “I bet mine was worse.” 

“There’s an asshole out there without a tongue, I can guess he’s not having a great day.” Kuroo jokes, but there’s an edge to his voice. Looking at him, I can see how angry he is at what happened to me. 

“I didn’t bite it off,” I tilt my head to the ceiling, focusing on trying to breathe through this. His lack of response prompts me to take a peek at him. “Don’t stay for me, please.” 

Kuroo gives me a look, “I just said I’m not. You’re so full of yourself. Besides, you bruised me.”

“What? How?”

“You straight up hit me a few times when I caught you running,” his eyes warm my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I laugh. “I didn’t even know I hurt you, you didn’t seem all that fazed by it.”

“Oh it hurt like hell, you should go ahead and kiss it better.” Kuroo lifts his shirt playfully and sure enough, there’s a very small and insignificant bruise forming on his side. 

I laugh the hardest I have all day. It turns into a belly laugh, I can’t stop laughing. I laugh until tears come back to my probably swollen eyes, Kuroo's face makes me laugh more. His eyes are wide, confused and his cheeks flush. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that-,” he cringes and his cheeks are impossibly redder. 

“I’m fine.” I catch my breath, “I’m fine I swear.” I tenderly wipe off the tears from the corner of my eyes and let out a shaky laugh. For a moment we sit in my room quietly, if not a little awkwardly. 

“What movie do you want to watch first?” He holds out his hand for mine. Gently, I accept his warm and calloused hand. Allowing myself the indulgence to pretend that he doesn’t have a Heather. 

-(-)-


	8. Guts

“How does your Netflix have Studio Ghibli movies?” I gasp. I don't stop the child-like grin spreading across my face as my eyes flicker through all the classics. 

“We use a VPN to keep our Japanese Netflix. We told you to add your profile onto our account, I don't know why you keep paying for your own. Right now that doesn't even matter though, because I said I’m watching crappy movies not masterpieces-“ Kuroo takes one look at my face and sighs. “Which one do you want to watch?” 

“I don't even pay for my own, I've just been waiting to see how long my family will keep me on the account before they kick me out. I will _definitely_ add myself on now, though." I pause, looking through the movies before nodding. "Ponyo." 

“Really?” He groans, “Not Princess Mononoke? Or at least Totoro?”

“Why’d you ask then?” I narrow my eyes and pout, “What’s wrong with Ponyo?” 

Kuroo doesn't bother answering me and instead rolls his eyes at me, but sure enough, he plays Ponyo. Maybe it's the realization that Kuroo and I haven't ever had moments like these together before, maybe it's the embarrassment creeping back in from earlier, but I sit stiffly next to him. I know it isn't just me, I can't be the only one who feels the awkwardness around us. Earlier I had a stroke of confidence to sit this close to him on the couch, not even putting much thought that our thighs were touching. Now, though, my skin burns from where our bodies touch and now it's creeping up my cheeks. I force myself to take a deep breath, but as I shakily exhale I can't bring myself to relax my shoulders and sit more comfortably. 

"You okay?" He mumbles. When I glance at him, his body is also stiffened and he's keeping his eyes trained on the screen. 

"Are _you?"_

"I-, well, I don't want you to be uncomfortable, right?" I nod. "It's just, well, I'm not good at this kinda stuff. I mean, _I am_ , but with Kenma. I don't really hang out with a lot of girls though, and I didn't grow up with any sisters or girl cousins. With w-what, _happened,_ today, like, I don't want to come off as a douche if I were to like... cuddle?" He cringes but continues stammering, "Maybe that isn't the right word, but you seem like you _really_ don't want to be sitting this close to me- which is okay! But if you want you can lean against me if you want to lie down? You don't have to though!" His cheeks redden with embarrassment and he shuts his eyes tightly, probably not wanting to see the stunned look on my face. 

"You don't make me uncomfortable," I slowly say, "Today has just been...stupidly long, and I'm still... upset you found me that way."

"Why?" Kuroo's eyes fly open and he turns to face me now. 

"Cos it _is_ ," A nervous giggle slips from me, "I don't even like crying in front of my family let alone _you,_ Kuroo. You can't tell me that this hasn't been awkward for you."

"Yeah," he laughs, "But who cares, you idiot? It's awkward because I don't wanna mess up and make you feel worse, I have to make sure that I am actually helping. But even if that weren't the case, don't hold back your feelings or your crying for my sake. I can suck it up. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn't be there for you?" In the dim living room, with the opening score illuminating our faces, we stare at each other. "So.. if you need to sit more comfortably, let me know. Or I-I can go? Whichever is better for you.." 

Mulling over this, I quietly allow myself to sit closer and sink myself against him. Hesitantly, Kuroo wraps his arms around my waist pulling me in. The warmth of his chest flushes against my back, the overtures from the movie quietly fill the room. Soon enough, my eyelids become heavy. It's now that I realize how exhausting today has been on me, both mentally and physically. His hands gently hold onto my arms, his heart beats against my cheek. Soon, his soft breathing lulls me asleep. Every so often, my eyes flutter open and there's a different scene playing, but I don't really care. I've seen this movie a million times. Even if I hadn't, I still wouldn't care. For now, I allow myself to mend the hurt in my chest with the feeling of Kuroo safely grounding me. I don't dream, instead I can still hear the movie playing and even hear Kuroo softly laughing at whatever is happening on-screen. I hope he doesn't mind me falling asleep on him. I hope he doesn't mind at all. I’m half asleep when I hear Kenma come home. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to rehash everything that happened today. 

“ _Tadaima_ ,” I hear Kenma greet, his keys clang against the coffee table. 

Kuroo’s voice rumbles in his chest against me, “ _Okaeri_.” 

I like to think that I know Kenma, well, at least better than before. So when I don't hear him shuffling off to his room, I can only imagine it's because the image of me asleep atop of Kuroo is probably a bit jarring. Kuroo must sense this, because he clears his throat and talks first. In Japanese, Kuroo explains, or at the very least partially explains, what happened today. Kenma is quiet at first, asking a few more questions in Japanese and humming in response whenever Kuroo replies. I can hear him dropping his bags onto the floor, sighing deeply. A new movie is playing now, listening for a few moments I can tell it’s Whisper of the Heart. Another favorite of mine, but I hadn’t told Kuroo that. A moment passes before Kenma leaves the room and a door closes from the hallway.

“Can you do me a favor?” Kuroo asks Kenma, who had come out from the bathroom. “I’ll pay you back, but can you place a mobile order for me?”

“Where’s your phone?” Kenma dubiously asks. 

“It’s-, well it’s in my back pocket...” Kuroo replies sheepishly. 

“Mobile order from _where_?” Kenma sighs again.

“Starbucks.” Kenma only snickers in response, I can feel Kuroo sighing deeply.

“Shut up, I found her instagram today and her bio mentions matcha. Could you order her one for me?”

Kenma hums unconvinced, but from the pleased sound Kuroo makes I'm sure Kenma is complying. After a beat of silence he asks, “So you’re internet stalking her now?” Maybe it’s because I’m half asleep and extremely drowsy, because if I’m not mistaken, Kuroo's heart quickens ever so slightly. 

“I’m not,” Kuroo defends himself. “We were talking this morning, and I got curious- _shut up_!” Kenma hadn’t said anything so his face must say it all. 

“What size?” He grumbles. 

“Maybe a grande?” There’s a soft okay from Kenma. From the sound of his voice, Kenma had moved towards us next to the couch. 

“I’m gonna have them make it with soy,” Kenma says quietly to himself. 

“Why?” 

“She texted me during class asking if any of us were allergic to it.” There’s a beat of silence. “Okay, it’ll be ready soon. I'm assuming you’re making me go.” Kenma sighs heavily. _Right, I was supposed to snag a box of soy milk from work tonight._

“Um, yeah I can’t exactly move," Kuroo sarcastically says, but his arms subtly embrace me slightly tighter. 

“Technically you can,” Kenma retorts. There’s a lengthy pause. I can feel Kenma's heavy gaze on me, now. 

“What.” Kuroo impatiently asks. 

“Nothing,” Kenma says lightly. I can tell their attention fell back onto the movie because they both respond quietly to whatever antics the characters are in on-screen.

“How long has she been out?” Kenma asks, breaking the silence. 

“We were barely into watching Ponyo,” his chuckle reverbs in his chest. 

“Ponyo?” Kenma laughs. 

“What?” Kuroo asks defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with Ponyo! Besides, she chose it.” 

“Oh I’m aware there’s nothing wrong with it. But it’s hilarious to hear "Mr. Cool Guy Rooster Head" imply that he only watched Ponyo for his roommate and not because,” he feigns a stage whisper, “- _i_ _t’s not your all time favorite Studio Ghibli movie_.” There’s a beat of silence, clearly Kenma won that point. 

“I don’t have a rooster head,” Kuroo pouts, which I can only tell because he says that in the very tone he always uses when he playfully pouts around us.

“Uh-huh,” Kenma laughs. There’s another pause, “Alright I sent in the order. I’m gonna walk then, see ya.”

“Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah.” When Kenma accidentally slams the door, I take this moment to “stir” awake. Kuroo curses in Japanese and shifts under me while I adjust myself comfortably.

I peak up at him and smile shyly, “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he says. “How do you feel?” I shrug, I don’t dare to move from him, afraid it’ll be the last. I also don’t admit that I haven’t slept better than this in months. 

“Kenma just left to pick up a drink for you.” Kuroo says, breaking my hazy eyes from the screen to look up at him. 

“It’s not a Frappuccino is it?” I tease. 

“I-, what-? You know what? You get what you get,” he huffs and embraces me tighter. I laugh, and try to bite back the smile on my face. We lay together watching together, I can feel myself drifting back to sleep when Kuroo’s voice interrupts the movie. 

“‘ _Matcha is my love language_ ’,” Kuroo quotes, smugly. 

“What?” I snort, but my cheeks flush with heat when I realize he's quoting my bio back to me. "Oh... shut up." I hide my face in his chest out of embarrassment, causing Kuroo to laugh against me. “Don’t be weird, Kuroo. If you want to follow me, just follow me. Don’t a creepy stalker on my page.” 

“I requested you hours ago! You've been ignoring it,” he pouts. “Most people would LOVE for me to request to follow them.” 

“Oh yeah? I didn’t realize you were so popular and cool. Did you post those Starbucks selfies, then?”

“You know what?" He sits up and reaches behind him to fish for his phone. I decide to use this moment to come off him completely, but he taps his chest when he reclines back on the couch. I hide a smile and lean against him again. “I _will_ post them.” With his arms enclosing me, he holds his phone so I can see. Sure enough, he picks out two pictures. One of him drinking it with a wink and Kenma giving a shy smile holding up two fingers while the other picture is of the drink itself. He types his caption in Japanese, tagging Kenma’s profile and mine. _He memorized my username,_ I smile. 

“What does your caption say?” I quietly ask, looking up at him. 

“I’m not telling you!” He scoffs, “So nosy. Watch the movie.” 

“I’ll just read the translation when I look at your post,” I cross my arms, relishing in the feeling of Kuroo's hands atop my belly. 

“I’ll make my Instagram private then,” he laughs. 

“But if you tag me, then I can see the post anyway,” I retort. He stays quiet, but looking down I realize he's removing my tag off his post.

I burst laughing, “Are you seriously that petty, Kuroo?”

We keep watching the movie together, quietly chiming in our opinions and admiration for soundtrack and animation. If I could pause time to fully enjoy this moment, I would. The feeling of his skin underneath my finger tips, his soft laugh. He even smells like the lavender body-wash I bought, to which he immediately declined using. I hope I can remember everything about us in this moment, because I know that because what happened today is the reason Kuroo is being so kind to me. 

Kenma comes back home quietly with two drinks in his hands, “ _Tadaima_ ,” he greets. I get off Kuroo to help him with the drinks as he tries to set his keys down and take off his shoes. 

“ _Okaeri_ ,” Kuroo says. 

“Hi,” Kenma's eyes soften, and quietly asks me, “...You okay?” 

“I just don’t wanna talk about it.” He gives me a curt nod and smile. 

“Which one is mine?” I ask, pretending I don’t already know. 

“Uhh,” Kenma checks the labels. “This one,” he pulls it out the carrier for me. 

“You didn’t get me anything?” Kuroo complains. 

“Well since _I’m_ going to practice, I’m treating myself.” Kenma takes a sip and disappears into his room to get ready. 

Kuroo is staring down at him, his mouth agape. “I can’t believe that!” I shrug and go to my room. “Oh, so you’re done watching movies with me now?” 

“God, I’m going to take a shower don’t be weird.” I laugh from the hallway. 

I come back to my phone with loads of unseen notifications. Some from my coworkers making sure I’m okay, some from Kenma and Kuroo that I missed before Marcus happened, most are from my friends sending videos in our chats. To my coworkers, I respond to them that I'm alright and will be back to work for my next shift. I text my friends what had happened today and I'm surprised at how quickly they respond to me. Their cries for revenge bubbles a laugh from my chest, and I smile at their words of empathy and encouragement. I think of my two closest friends from back home though, I haven't responded to our chat in a few weeks and that's been completely my fault. I sigh, knowing there's too much to unpack and decide to send an audio message. 

The message is 16 minutes long. 

Normally, I don't send audios and sometimes am too lazy to listen to them. However, my friends know that when I _do_ send one, they're in for a story. I don't disappoint. I start from meeting Kuroo, and how eventually I became his roommate along with Kenma, putting emphasis on the fact that I moved in because they are my friends and they were helping me out of my dorm situation. I tell them that they coincidentally are one the volleyball team I help manage, and while yes I don't know a lot about volleyball, I've made friends. It's besides the point that I find my new friends attractive, because I'm finally making memories worth looking back on. It takes a lot of strength to talk about today though, it pains me having to repeat my story over again knowing that this wouldn't have happened if I never went into that godforsaken library. I sigh, digging the palms of my hands into my eyes so I can forget the feeling of Him gripping me. Kenma scares the living hell out of me when I look back up. 

“Jesus!” I clutch my chest, my heart pounding. “Why didn’t you knock?!”

“Your door was open?” He gives me a knowing, smug grin. _Oh no._

“How much did you hear?” I cover my cheeks with my hands. 

“Everything. Well, at least up until you started talking about what happened today. I went back to check on Kuroo by then,” Kenma looks down his hands, his gym bag lay at his feet. “I’m really sorry that that had happened-"

“I shouldn’t have gone to the library. Every nerve in my body told me something was wrong,” I shake my head, scoffing at myself. 

“We make mistakes. But he took advantage of your kindness, and he was the one violated your space. None of this is your fault,” Kenma's voice is even, but his clenched fists expose his feelings.

I nod, “It’s just crazy, Kenma. He said I flirted with him, that I purposely would brush against him. I don't even remember ever _seeing_ him, and he made it out to be that I owed him something.” I shut my eyes in disgust. 

“You fought like hell though,” he replies. 

I mutter, “I guess I did.” 

“Takes guts to bite a chunk off a guy’s tongue.” 

“I didn’t bite a chunk off,” I roll my eyes and sigh.

Silence falls between us, I shuffle on my bed uncomfortable. 

“Y’know,” Kenma sighs before leaning against my doorway. “I don’t use the word ‘guts’ a lot. I used to fight with an old teammate of mind about it a lot, because saying something took "guts" is too vague to actually mean anything. But after a game we had against one of my close buddies, I understood what it meant, and hated it less. You had guts to fight your way out today, and no one can take that away from you. I think what you did was admirable, because to this day I still haven’t unlocked the ‘guts’ feature for myself. Somehow, though, I keep meeting people like you and our friends who have it and you guys remind me all the time how cool you guys can be. I hope one day, I can be like you and unlock it.” 

In a way, this is hilarious because as I've gotten to know them, I admire him and Kuroo. I've wished to be as intelligent as they are, to be on their level. I've admired their hard work, Kuroo's dedication to the team, Kenma's passion for his career. Kenma, though, had just admitted that I have something he doesn't; something that I didn't really think was a quality I had. The more my mind mulls over his words, the more they bleed into my heart. I'd like to think that I know Kenma, at least, better than before. He has a way of surprising me though, right now being one of them. If Kuroo was a puzzle when you first meet him, then Kenma is an enigma. Not many people really _see_ Kenma, not that he even lets them in the first place. Yet these are the moments when he lets his guard down, drops the wall, and reaches over with a steady hand. No, I don't know Kenma at all. I wouldn't mind decrypting him though. 

“Thank you…” I whisper, still trying to comprehend how Kenma was able to relieve the anxiety off my chest. 

He nods in response, before grinning. “So... you think I’m cute?” 

I groan, holding my hands over my cheeks to cool down the burning. “We are _not_ going to talk about this, ever again.”

Kenma belly laughs, his hair falling over his eyes. “It’s okay, just you should know that our walls are pretty thin and I could hear you from the hallway.” 

My eyes widen, “Kuroo didn’t-?” 

Kenma crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, "“No because Heather called while he was watching the movie, so he missed her call. Meaning that right now she is giving him hell over it.” 

_Oh thank god_. My shoulders slump forward in relief. _Well, sucks that he's being hung out to dry. Better for him not to hear me, though._

“Kuroo likes you too, you know.” Kenma says nonchalantly, before grabbing his bag and turning to leave. 

“Wait-wait! You can’t just say something cryptic and then leave! Why did you say that?” I chase him down the hallway to the front door. 

Kenma turns on his heels with the front door open between us, he glances behind me at Kuroo and then at me. “I'm sure you know he’s a little more complicated than you think, but you guys can be a lot alike just as you are different.” He nods and waves goodbye to Kuroo. 

“I’m gonna need a lot more info than that, Kenma!!” I yell at him, but he’s already jogging down the sidewalk. 

I close the door, defeated. Behind me, Kuroo has his eyes shut tight and a hand raised to his temple hoping to massage out the tension being built. My eyebrows furrow at the sight of him, gone is the boy who held me until I stopped crying. For a second, I think he has his phone on speaker until I realize that Heather just _that_ loud. I walk over to tap my foot against his shin, smiling when I see his hazel eyes sparkling again. He smiles back at me and motions to the TV and his phone apologetically, to which I just shrug. _It's okay,_ I mouth. Kuroo nods appreciatively, and I leave to wash the day off me.

When I come out of my room, the house is quiet again. I quietly toe over to the living room to see Kuroo sprawled on the couch still massaging his temple. He looks like hell again, and he jumps at the sound of my voice. 

“You okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah," Kuroo sucks in a deep breath and glances at me. He double takes and blushes faintly. “Ah, your hair- it’s, well it’s pretty. I mean it’s always pretty, but did you do something...different?” He winces, "Sorry."

I chuckle, "Don't apologize, thank you. I just diffused it, is all." He stares at me blankly and nods. 

“You don’t know what that is, do you?" I deadpan. He struggles to answer for a few minutes, before just admitting he doesn’t. “That’s okay,” I laugh, “I’ll just show you another time. How’s Heather?” 

“Slightly not as pissed,” He says with a fleeting smile. “I don’t know," He sighs, "I sometimes feel that no matter how much I try to be there for her, she isn't willing to even meet me halfway lately."

"What do you mean?" I pat his leg at the opposite end of the couch so I have room to sit. 

Kuroo is silent for a moment before he answers, "It just seems that she has no problem ignoring my calls or texts throughout the day, even when I'm bending over backwards to match her timezone. Yet, like, right now I was watching the movie and I missed her call, and she makes it out to be something that it's not. She doesn't pay attention to anything I say, like that time she called me during practice and she blew up my phone. I don't know, maybe she's right. Even if I'm tired, I should still be able to be there for her calls." Kuroo exhales and runs his hands through his hair. Unfortunately, he catches my frown. 

“What?” He asks with narrowed eyes. 

“Nothing!” I say too quickly. “It's just- well, it must be hard to be away from someone you love,” I choose my words carefully. Kuroo scans my face, I cross my arms self consciously. _Kenma is right, Heather sounds like an ass..._

He sighs, “I don’t want to keep messing up. She’s the first girl who I’ve- well...”

I pretend to gag, “Ew I didn’t ask for that!” 

His cheeks brighten red, “No! I mean, she’s my first _real_ girlfriend.” His hands cover his cheeks, which has become impossibly redder. 

“Ohh.” I bite my lip. “ _Really_?” I quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“Ah, don’t laugh. I've been on some dates here and there before her, but up until her and I started talking I was focused solely on school.” Kuroo looks up to the ceiling, avoiding my eyes.

“It’s just-," A laugh slips and I throw Kuroo an apologetic look. "Sorry, but you crack me up, truly. Like, there's the side that probably everyone sees from you: flirty, outgoing, funny. I mean, even when you and Bokuto are together, y'all are basically _feral-"_

 _"Feral?"_ Kuroo asks quizzically. 

"Well, you guys are rambunctious. Crazy, fun, confident. So it's really _really_ cute to hear that Heather is your first girlfriend. Are you really that shy when it comes to girls?" I rest my head against my palm, my elbow propped on top of my leg.

“Bokuto is better at that stuff than I am,” Kuroo furrows his eyebrows but does nothing to stop the blushing spreading to the tips of his ears. “Even he doesn't know how to help me, though. I know a relationship isn't supposed to be stupid easy, but sometimes I can't help wondering if it's supposed to be this hard. It's exhausting having to feel like I have to be on top of my game, like I have to constantly be impressive in her eyes. It's like one long first date."

"I mean, how many first dates have you actually been on-" 

"Shut up," Kuroo rolls his eyes and laughs, "I've been on them before. With Heather, I'm afraid that if I can't be 100% she-" He stops himself short, shaking his head. 

“Or else what?”

“She’ll start getting bored of me.” Kuroo meekly sighs, slumping his shoulders. 

“Oh come on! On my list of boring people you are nowhere on it," I stretch my leg and use my foot to nudge his. 

“Yeah..” he sighs. 

“Do you miss her?” I ask, possibly out of morbid curiosity. 

There’s a slight hesitation, “I don’t think she misses _me_. She gets jealous, but I don’t think she’s listening to me when I talk about things going on. Or... if she even cares...”

“Have you told her that?” I tilt my head, hoping he can't see how much my heart is aching for him. 

“Yeah.” 

“And...?”

“Well, nothing really. She just said that of course she _hears_ me, but that isn't the same as listening, right?" I nod. "I get the feeling I like her more than she likes me.” We sit on the couch facing each other, neither of us saying a word. I push away my own feelings, looking for a way I can help him after he's helped me so much today, alone. On the tip of my tongue, I hold back the many words I want to tell Kuroo, instead I swallow them down. 

“I used to date this boy in high school,” I look at my hands, the sound of my voice breaking the silence catches his attention. “I'm not entirely sure how we started to like each other, he used to really annoy me. But there was that moment when we started talking that it was romantic and things were happening in slow motion, y'know?" Kuroo nods, waiting for me to continue. "He had a lot of mental stuff going on though, like depression and anxiety. Whenever he had bad days, I was there. I’d listen, I’d reason with him, I would be there even when he pushed me away. But I-well, I kinda struggle with that stuff too, I mean I still do," I snort. "But back then I had a _lot of really really dark days_. I expected him to be there for me too, you know?” Kuroo angles himself closer to me, his fingers toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“One day, he was mad at me because I was talking to a guy who was in one of my classes. He was _so sure_ that this guy wanted me, and that I would _leave him_ for this random classmate I talked to. So I tried not to talk to him as much, because I wanted to respect my boyfriend, and I didn't like when he was jealous. But if he so much as saw us walk out of class together, he’d ignore me all day. And there was a day when I had these really _dark_ thoughts, and I just wanted to have someone there for me. All day though, he ignored me. He wouldn't answer any of my texts. I'd text asking what I did wrong, I apologized not knowing what I was apologizing for. All day, I was begging for him to just _talk_ to me, because I was really sad. That same day I found out someone in my family died, and it took me having to say that to him so he could finally respond back.

“We broke up not too long after that. Looking back, he expected for me to be there for him for his bad days but he wouldn't do the same for me. I stopped talking to those guys he was jealous of, but he wouldn't even set boundaries for a girl we both knew was trying to get in between our relationship. In the end, he wanted me to be there for him, but he wouldn’t be there for me.” I sigh. “I guess, moral of the story, don’t date high school boys.” I laugh awkwardly, worried I said too much that he wouldn't care about. “But I don’t know, I guess I just mean that I know on some level how you feel. To feel for someone more than they feel for you.” Kuroo stays quiet, lost in thought as he mulls over my words.

“Sorry for rambling,” I add quickly. 

Kuroo shakes his head, “No it’s okay. Were you right about his friend?”

I hesitate, “Yeah. They started dating a month after we broke up. I used to say he was my first love, like when we were dating. But in reality, it was just infatuation. Or something closer to love. Faux love, if you will." At the sound of his soft laugh, I smile. "I dodged a bullet, nonetheless. He was a jerk."

He hums thoughtfully. “Have you fallen in love since?”

“What, you’re trying to get free relationship advice from me, now?” I smirk, trying to stray away from this topic. He gives me an incredulous look. “No,” I say, meeting his gaze. “And you? Have you been in love before?”

“No.” Kuroo answers honestly, quickly. 

“Not even with Heather?” 

Kuroo laughs, “I just don’t fall in love quickly, I guess.” 

“Oh I do,” I smooth my hands over my bare legs. 

“You just said you haven’t been in love before,” he shoots me a look. 

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my heart on my sleeve,” I defend. “I’ve had like six crushes since my ex.”

“Do you like someone now?” Kuroo asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

“No,” I lie. “So what are you going to do about Heather? You should talk to her, tell _her_ how you feel instead of your roommate.” 

“I will, just not tonight. She’s heard enough from me today,” Kuroo hands me the remote. “Here. Pick something.” 

It takes me a moment, to which Kuroo teases. We both decide to watch a sci-fi/thriller anime that neither of us have seen before. As we watch,I tease Kuroo about one of the little characters looking like him; we spend hours bingeing the first season. As the suspense builds, out of our collective fear and anxiety we found each other sitting closer by the end of the season. My hands clench in my lap, his jaw is clenched, as we face the final scenes with despair. In my chest, there's hope for a happy ending. There has to be. When the final episode ends, there’s tears in both our eyes. 

“What’re you doing?” Kuroo asks, quickly wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

“I’m looking up manga spoilers,” I say, typing on my phone. I gasp as my eyes trickle down the article I've found, updating me through the storyline that the manga has laid out. I gasp, catching Kuroo's attention. 

“What? What?” He asks excitedly, reading my face for any answers. I look up at him, my eyes shining. 

“Well-,” I start to say but he holds his hand up. 

“No don’t tell me,” he looks away. 

“ _Oh_ _please_!” 

“I don’t want to know!” Kuroo shouts, shutting his eyes tightly. 

“Okayy,” I sing-song. 

“He’s not actually dead, is he?” Kuroo turns to me again, bringing his hands down from his ears. 

“Oh I’m not telling you,” I keep scrolling, hoping to find out more. 

“ _Sabi_ ,” he whines.

 _"Kuroo,"_ I mimic. Kuroo attempts to look at my phone now, but groans when I block his view. “Stop, you’re going to make me lose my place!” Kuroo has started to reach for my phone now, but when I stretch out my arm he climbs over me to retrieve my phone.

“I want to see!” He screams right next to my ear. "You can easily end this if you just show me what happens!"

"But you told me not to," I shout back. Giggling, I manage to ball into myself and tuck my hands into my belly. Kuroo tries to grip my arms away, but I'm unwavering. His laughter and pleading mixed with me yelling at him, fills the house. My mistake was when his hands accidentally brushed against my side, causing a giggle to slip out. With this realization, Kuroo grins and teases my sides more. I can't help laughing more, my belly aches the more he continues to tickle me. 

“'M gonna kill you!” I laugh, my eyes wet with tears. 

“I’ll stop when you tell me what happens!” I manage to roll onto my back, slipping my phone in my back pocket. I start to push myself against Kuroo, trying to create a space so I can escape. It’s almost too easy, until I realize that when I look into Kuroo’s eyes I’ve fallen into a trap. His hands attack my even exposed side. I push against him trying to get an upper hand, I manage to get on top. Kuroo is so distracted with tickling me that he doesn’t even realize that my phone isn’t even in his hands. When he realizes that I’m trying to drag myself off the couch, he presses his thighs and legs together trapping me on top of him. 

“Agh!” I shriek, still laughing even though he's foregone the tickling. “Let go!”

“Not until you tell me! Is he dead?!” I'm trying to catch my breath, debating on accepting defeat or pushing forward to win, but my pulse quickens when I realize the compromised position I've put myself in- 

“Uh.. I’m home.” Kenma breaks through our commotion. Kuroo and I bother snap our faces towards our front door, his cheeks flushed. When he lessens his grip on me, my head leans forward onto his chest while I try to breathe, his heartbeat beats fast against mine. My muscles ache from being tensed so long, and I think I twisted my finger-

“It’s not- uh, what this looks like?” Kuroo stutters, unconvincingly. 

I move off Kurro, embarrassed. “He’s acting like a baby because I wouldn’t give him manga spoilers for Promised Neverland.” I sit at the opposite end of the couch and recline back, exhausted. 

“Oh,” Kenma raises his eyebrows. “It’s a good manga, you should read it Kuroo.”

“Oí what happens to Norman?” Kuroo pushes his fringe back, his forehead has a thin sheen of sweat forming. 

“Ah, so _now_ you want me to talk about manga? Last time you told me to go study instead,” Kenma rolls his eyes, passing us to go into his room. We hear his door slam. We both fall silent, looking down the hallway where Kenma had disappeared into his room. 

“Must’ve been one hell of a practice,” Kuroo mutters. 

-(-)-


	9. Nightmares

For a few days, I pretend that nothing happened. I try not to recoil if Bokuto hugs me from behind, or shudder if Akaashi taps my shoulder to get my attention. I know I’m not the best at hiding my nervousness. I can hardly bring myself to walk by the library now, the mere thought of walking down the hallways where Marcus said he saw me prickles my skin. It’s worse when I can tell that Bokuto and Akaashi are confused by my skittishness, especially since I’ve begged Kenma and Kuroo to not tell them. When word got around that a student was attacked, I felt my knees buckle. I had a panic attack when I found out that the rumors labelled Marcus as the victim. No names were ever dropped, no one even knew that when they gossiped in front of me that the very person they talked about was right before their eyes. I stayed home for a few days, I didn’t go to practices or classes. When the guys came over I pretended to be sick, but my stomach always tightened hearing Kuroo lie for me. It was Kuroo who finally dragged me out of bed for an emergency house meeting. He sat me at the kitchen counter, where he and Kenma sat across from me. My stomach twists.

“We think you should tell the guys what happened,” Kenma says, bluntly. 

“Wha-why?” I stutter, my skin prickles at the very thought and that knife in my stomach twists. 

“They’re worried about you,” Kuroo adds softly. “I mean _we all are_. I just think that if they knew-.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t even have told you guys if I hadn’t run into you, Kuroo. I don’t need more people knowing this _stupid-_.”

“-It’s not stupid,” Kenma interjects. 

“ _-Embarrassing_ thing happened, I don’t.”

“Why wouldn’t you have told us?” Kuroo asks, his eyebrows furrow. 

I let out a short laugh, “I don’t know! Because I don’t want to be treated differently, and I don’t want to feel like you have to worry about me. And it _is_ stupid to me. It’s stupid that I just agreed to go to the library with I guy I didn’t know and it was stupid of me to cry about it when he tried to take advantage of me. I should’ve known, I should’ve known that I was putting myself up for something like this!” I can’t stop the words from coming out now, a deep bitter anger rises from inside my chest. “I know women who have gotten through a lot worse, a lot younger than I am now. Hell, I was raised on how to avoid getting attacked. My parents even put me and my sister in self-defense classes in case we were ever in a situation like I was in, and you know what happened? I froze. For a split second, I thought to just _give in."_ I swallow down tears, my voice is starting to break. "To just let him kiss me because I couldn’t move. I sometimes wake up feeling like his tongue is still shoving itself down my throat, I still can’t shake the feeling that someone is probably watching me walk down the hallways now. I have a bruise on my wrist from where he grabbed me.” I show them, blinking back angry hot tears. 

“ _So yeah_ , it’s embarrassing. I know I shouldn’t be ashamed, but I am because what else are you supposed to feel when your own mother tells you that I shouldn’t have gone to that library in the first place.” I spit out, wiping angry tears off my stinging cheeks. They stare at me wide-eyed.

“When did…?” Kenma takes in a deep breath and his nose wrinkles, a crease in between his eyes deepens.

“...She say that?” Kuroo finishes for Kenma, his eyes are too intense for me to hold his stare. 

I shrug, discreetly trying to wipe a tear that’s escaped down my cheek. “I called her the morning after. It wasn’t like she said it was my fault, she listened to everything I said and she cried when I told her. But when she asked me why I went to the library…” I sigh, my shoulders drop the tension I've been holding. “It’s like she… confirmed that I was right to be upset with myself.”

Kuroo balls his fists, his mouth twists and he looks up to the ceiling. Kenma stares at the space between us, his face is blank but his eyes are furious. 

“It’s not-,” I stammer, trying to backtrack my words. “She doesn’t mean to-.”

“Sabrina, she's wrong,” Kuroo slowly says. Each word is strained with self-control, but his own bitterness threatens to bleed through. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t care if she didn’t mean to make you feel this way because I’ve seen you for the past almost _week_ now, and it hurts to know that you probably felt _very_ alone since you talked to her. I need you to know that I am so sorry about what happened, but your mom is _wrong._ Because it isn’t your fault. It doesn’t matter that you froze, it doesn’t matter that you walked into the goddamn library even if you felt like you shouldn’t have; because in the end, it was _him_ who decided he was going to try and hurt you.” He releases the tension in his fists, but his jaw is still clenched, “You are valid in how you feel, but please don’t ever think we see you as stupid.” He walks over to me and hugs me from around my shoulders, Kuroo’s head leans into the crook of my shoulder, and he holds while I let out a shaky cry. 

Eventually I can't help but laugh, still thick with tears. “Sorry,” I wipe my cheeks with my sleeves and roll my eyes at myself. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Kenma gives me a shy, but warm, smile. 

“You guys really think I should tell them?” I sniff, rubbing my eyes again even though it stings.

“Well, it’s up to you. But they know you’re acting strange. I was able to convince Bokuto that you still weren’t mad at him for accidentally hitting that ball at you the other day.” Kuroo says, he smiles when I let out a small laugh. 

“I don’t think I can do it on my own…” My lips are chapped, they start to bleed. Kenma walks away briefly and comes back with lip balm, he nods silently when I tell him thanks. 

“You don’t have to,” Kuroo shrugs. “I can be there next to you to hold your hand if you need me to.” His tone is light, and when I give him a look he smiles. “I’m serious.” 

So I invited the guys over that night. They were shy around me, which just made me feel worse for how I’ve been towards them. At first, I can tell they were walking on eggshells around me. I don’t blame them. I’ve been cold towards them lately. It’s hard remembering the looks on their faces when I ignored them after practice; desperate to make Kenma walk me home before it got too dark. Bokuto’s face grew serious when I sat them down, Akaashi’s eyes narrowed as the details fell together. I felt embarrassed when I started to feel myself cry again, but looking at Kuroo and seeing his encouraging smile was enough for me. In the end, Bokuto and Akaashi took turns hugging me tightly. They whispered apologizes, they told me it’d be okay. Akaashi promises to walk with me in the hallways until I feel safe again, Bokuto tells me he’s going to kick his ass if he ever sees him. 

  
“I’m sorry that I made you guys think I was mad at you,” I whisper into their hugs again.

“I’m just glad you told us,” Akaashi pulls away first, running his hand through his hair and shakes his head. 

“Just-,” I sigh. “-This is goes for all you guys,” I say, my hands fidgeting. “Please don’t make me feel any different. I want to try and go back to normal, I’m really tired of feeling sorry for myself and I don’t want to see you guys doing it or else I’m just gonna-.”

“Deal,” they say, interrupting my threat. 

That night we order in pizza. Bokuto is the one who suggests that we play a drinking game, to which we readily agree to. We spend the night laughing; my cheeks and belly ache. Their cheeks rosy from the cheap beer Kuroo bought, Kenma complains that we should just let him spend money on better liquor. Bokuto is the first to start to pass out, he lays his head on the counter and just smiles sweetly at me. Kuroo then follows, insisting that he’s fine when in reality his words are slurring too much for any of us to really understand. I’m not faring any better, I know I’m talking too loudly and too much, but Kenma and Akaashi listen nonetheless to my rambling with a smile. 

That night we all crashed in the living room, abandoning the games and letting Akaashi pick a movie for us to try and watch. From what I can remember, I fell asleep next to Kuroo, the alcohol not letting me care that I am practically curled up against him. Kenma sleeps close enough where our arms are practically linked and our legs almost touch. I can feel Bokuto’s hair tickling my cheeks because he fell asleep using Kuroo as a pillow. Akaashi drapes blankets over us before falling asleep on the couch. The screen switches off, and I finally can sleep without a nightmare.

-(-)-

I decide to push myself harder during the team practices. Kuroo and Bokuto take me to the gym sometimes, each try to show me some of their routine. However it mostly consists of Kuroo teasing me for getting tired so easily, or for complaining. Bokuto balances our dynamic, cheering me on and then still praising me even when I decide to half ass it. On the team runs, Kenma jogs beside me and swears it’s because he doesn’t want me running by myself. I get him to admit, though, it’s because he’s tired and just wants to slow down. Since I became manager, I’ve seen Kuroo scold Kenma for cutting corners and taking the easy way out of drills and practices. Recently though, he lets Kenma stay by my side when he himself can’t. 

Kuroo’s eyes brighten when I ask if they can show me how to play volleyball with them. We stay after our practices, promising to Riviera that we will lock up afterwards, and they show me what they know. Obviously I’m terrible, a fact that Kuroo reminds me with every chance he gets. When I jerk my head up to snap, I'm met with his charming smile and his hand on his hip, daring for me to argue. He'd laugh at my muttering complaints, and gently tug on one of my loose curls because he knows I'll try to hide my smile. 

To everyone’s surprise, Kenma also stays behind with us and even shows me how he sets and blocks other players. 

“It’s about working _smarter_ not harder,” Kenma tells me, unintentionally setting off a debate on whether or not you should give your all and be passionate with every move or if you should be calculating and think before you act. We ignore Bokuto and Kuroo arguing, Akaashi mediates but we all know he's leaning towards Kenma's way of thinking.

“I have all these dots on my arm,” I marvel after a round of receiving spikes. 

“Yeah it’s just some internal bleeding,” Kenma plainly says. “They’ll go away eventually the more you practice.”

“You say that very casually,” I grin, gently thumbing over my reddened skin. 

“There’s no need to worry about them,” he adds quickly. 

I laugh, “I’m not, they look cool. Hey look guys, I have internal bleeding!” I show off my arms to a few of our teammates who give me weird looks, but Kenma’s laugh is enough validation for me. 

Shimi doesn’t make it to one practice so I became responsible to be their sole manager that day. It’s also when Bokuto sees me taking notes that he makes the stunning realization that I am left-handed. 

“You didn’t know that?” Akaashi rolls his eyes. 

“ _You knew?!”_ Bokuto exclaims, holding my hand still despite my flushing cheeks. 

“So why does it matter that I’m left-handed?” I ask Bokuto, who positions me across the net from him, wanting my to serve.

“Because there’s this crazy player who’s left-handed and his spikes are just insane! Not a lot of players are left-handed so the trajectory can throw off normal players who are so used to normal serves-”

“Pick different adjectives, Bokuto.” Akaashi says beside me. Bokuto continues rambling a little more before Akaashi pats him on the shoulder and steps into the conversation. “He wants to get used to serving left-handed serves so that when we _do_ come across someone who serves with their left, Bokuto isn’t thrown off,” Akaashi explains to me. He shoos Bokuto off to the other side of the net and directs me step by step on how to serve. Kuroo comes over with water bottles for us, a towel draped over his neck. His appearance makes me nervous, and I barely get the ball over the net. Bokuto dives to receive it, nonetheless.

“I’m bad at serving sorry!” I yell to Bokuto. He responds with a thumbs up. 

Kuroo laughs, “That's his way of saying your crap serves are going to help him either way.”

“You’re not allowed to call my serves crappy,” I give him a warning look. 

-(-)-

“Weren’t you supposed to have done that three days ago?” Kuroo asks after coming out from his room. 

“Mind your business,” I retort. “I just need to go through my videos and see what would be a cool moment to try and animate...” I trail off, my eyes trained on my laptop.

I sit at the kitchen counter with my camera and notes on my side, it took me forever but now all my videos are on my laptop. Now, I have to skip to the timestamps I've written and see if they still hold up to my standards. I’m wondering why I can easily hear Kenma turning on the shower but not Kuroo being a loud brat about something, until I realize he’s watching me. My hand pulls up the collar of my shirt over my nose and I start to skip through the volleyball game a little faster. Kuroo doesn’t say anything, he just carefully watches me take notes and every once in awhile I sketch out ideas. I settle on a moment where Kuroo and Bokuto make a soft block, which causes a chain reaction for Kenma to receive and Akaashi to set back to Bokuto so he can spike harder.

“Agh,” I lay my head onto my sketchbook, hoping to hide my face.

“What?” Kuroo asks from over my shoulder.

"I don’t want to draw with you right behind me,” I whine, the paper muffles my words.

“Are you _that_ bad?” I can hear his stupid smirk. 

I gasp offended and look up at him, “ _No_. You make me nervous... just go away.” I wave him off but he stays put.

“Uh no, the kitchen is a public space. If I want to stand in this particular spot then I will,” he smirks at me, his eyes glinting.

“Okay _I'll_ leave then,” I hide my grin when Kuroo gently pushes me back to my chair. He clicks his tongue, and leans on the back of my chair to watch me work.

It takes a few tries, but eventually I find my groove. Everything around me fades, even Kuroo becomes a small thought in the back of my head. Every so often he sniffs or shifts his weight, but I don’t dare to lose my focus. Soon the loose lines and little notes I have, become organic and lively. The hardest part is deciding if I should animate this like an anime or in a totally different style, but that will have to be decided until later. 

“Hey I hope you don’t mind if I play music,” I mutter; I don’t wait for Kuroo to answer though.

Soft music plays, I further drown myself into my work. I don't pay much attention to Kuroo when he leaves or when Kenma quietly walks in and peaks over at my work. Soon the two leave me be, the kitchen light being the only source of light in the dark house. My hand cramps after a couple of hours, but I keep pushing myself to get those details right. It isn’t due yet, but, I start working on more than just my storyboard. I start writing notes for when I want a certain audio clip to play, ideas on how I should get the sound of gym shoes hitting the floor, wondering if Kenma has a microphone I can borrow to record any of my ideas.

I scroll through my phone for reference pictures I took of my team, more strictly focused on Akaashi, Bokuto, Kenma and Kuroo. Just yesterday I forced them to pose for me while I take a 360 shot of them, Akaashi and Kenma both pretending not to care but the tips of their ears show otherwise. Bokuto had tried to direct me on his more flattering angles, Kuroo teased me. But after a while, my paper shows all of them in their different poses. I convince myself that I’m putting attention into their thighs, legs and arms because I want to be accurate. 

I sigh, rubbing my eyes. Pausing for a break, I massage my hand and grab my water bottle from the fridge. I’m flipping through my papers when Kuroo comes out of his room in sweats and an old t-shirt. He does a double take, I give him an unconvincing innocent smile.   
  


“ _Why are you up_?” He freezes from his spot and crosses his arms. 

“Why are _you_ up?” I shoot back. 

We stare at each other. 

“I was talking to Heather,” Kuroo caves in first and yawns. 

“It’s...” I pause to look at my watch. “4:30!” 

“You should be asleep, too!”

“So you admit that you’d rather be sleeping.” He glares half-heartedly at me and opens the fridge. “Why are you getting on me for being awake and not Kenma too? He’s _still_ gaming.” 

“He’s working,” Kuroo says behind me. 

“So am I,” I roll my eyes. “I can’t stop now anyway, I’m in too deep.”

He swigs from his own chilled water bottle and sits next to me. Kuroo’s hand hovers over my papers and gives me a questioning look, I nod and he carefully goes over my project. I shift uneasily in my stool, my fingers entangling through my hair. His eyes give away nothing to tell me what he’s thinking, he just takes in my drawings. He's quiet besides the soft sound of my papers being shuffled around. After a few unbearable moments, Kuroo clears his throat. 

“These are amazing.”

I exhale. 

“I didn’t really think you were serious when you said this is why you were taking pictures of us,” he chuckles. 

“What?” I exclaim, to which he gently hushes. “Did you think I was just taking pervy photos?” I say above a whisper. I hit his shoulder when he gave me a nonchalant shrug. “But you can tell who’s who, right?” I chew on the skin around my thumb. 

“Yes!” His eyes finally show me excitement, “It’s so cool how you did this!” He pauses over his drawing, his fingers lightly graze over the lines of his face and body. His eyebrows furrow, Kuroo chews on the inside of his cheek. 

“What’s wrong?”

He gives me a small shake of his head and hums. “Nothing, I just realized no one's ever drawn me before. At least, they haven’t _shown_ me.”

I giggle and lean my cheek against my hand, “I had a boyfriend in the 8th grade who drew me.” 

“Was it good?”

“We had different art styles.”

“So it sucked-“

“ _We had different art styles_.” 

“Akaashi draws really well too, you know. He actually wants to write a manga one day,” Kuroo says pensively. 

“Oh I know. We’ve talked about it a lot. We actually have the same illustration professor, just on different days.” He stays silent next to me, his eyes studying back and forth between my story board and the reference drawings. “I have an idea for a manga too,” I add to break the silence, “I’m going to bounce ideas off Akaashi and see if he wants to help me with the writing and drawing.”

“Yeah? You have a lot of ideas, huh?” He gives me a sleepy smile. "What with the animating, the video game with Kenma, and the manga."

“Yeah my counselor says I should focus more on realistic goals. But what’s the point of being an art major and only focusing on one medium? That’s like telling me that you can’t be a chef _and_ a writer. Or I can’t dance and sing. I can’t just pick one child to go to college while the other stays behind! I don’t see anything wrong with having ambitions! If I want to design a video game, write a manga, be an animator, why should anyone stop me?!” I try to quiet my voice, but I can’t help but whisper-shout. I've thrown my hands up in the air, my drowsiness long gone now.

“I get it,” Kuroo hums.

“What else would you study?” I lean my head against my propped hand, my eyes studying the developing dark circles under his eyes. 

“I don’t know, finance seems really cool,” Kuroo’s hand massages the back of his neck. “Well, actually it’d be pretty cool to know how to make a video game.” 

With playful disbelief my eyes widen, “Really?!”

Kuroo shushes me, but his reprimand is broken up by soft chuckling. “Shut up! Kenma is gonna be pissed if we interrupt his livestream!” 

“You have been giving us crap _all week_ about us and this video game,” I laugh more when I see his ears tinted pink. 

“I wasn’t _against_ the video game! I was against you guys neglecting your actual homework and projects for something that isn’t an assignment!” 

“Fine, you can help us with the video game.” I wave it off, turning back to my project. I start scratching in notes around my drawings, notes for a more well-rested me. 

“I don’t have anything to offer,” Kuroo says, meekly. 

“Bold of you to assume _I_ have anything to offer,” I chuckle. “Literally right now, it’s just Kenma and I. We have no idea what we are doing. We are quite literally _not_ qualified, and who cares? Besides, you are the smartest person I know, Kuroo. Smarter than Kenma and I. In my book, you have everything in you to offer.” He’s quiet next to me, I look up from my paper and his hands are covering his bright, red-stained cheeks. “Are you okay??”

“Y-yes! I didn’t expect you to say all that mushy, sentimental stuff! Give me a second to recover,” he avoids looking me in the eyes by covering his entire face now.

“Oh my god, you’re such a dork! How is that all day you act _so_ cool and _so_ confident, but can’t take a basic compliment?” I grin, resting my head against my hand. 

“That was _not_ a basic compliment,” Kuroo peaks through his fingers. 

“Oh whatever,” I roll my eyes and get back to work. I let my hair cover the blush creeping over my _own_ cheeks, as I struggle to even remember what I was supposed to be doing. 

“We should go to sleep,” Kuroo composes himself finally. “Especially you.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna to keep working.” The anxiety that I have been pushing down for hours starts to creep back in, my hand pauses for a millisecond before sketching again. 

“Sabrina,” Kuroo says softly. He rarely uses my first name, but when he has he is being serious. I look up and he’s watching me carefully, wondering which is worse: my heart racing because of a panic attack or because he can see right through me. “You should rest.” 

I shift uncomfortably, “I don’t sleep well at night, like I get bad nightmares and then I can’t sleep. But it’s been, like, _slightly_ worse than usual since… well since that idiot.” I keep my eyes trained on my paper, but my eyes can't focus as a heavy drowsiness creeps back in.

“How long have you had these nightmares?”

“Oh I’ve had pretty bad nightmares ever since I was a kid,” I sigh. “It’s really not _that_ bad, it’s just annoying to wake up and not be able to go back to sleep.” 

“You know I give Kenma melatonin every night? I can start giving you some too, if you want I mean.” Kuroo massages the back of his neck. 

“I mean, what good is it if he’s still awake?” I laugh softly. 

“I think he likes that they’re grape flavored,” Kuroo admits, his arm still folded behind his head. 

“It’s just a little insomnia, Kuroo.” I smile and go back to my notes, “I’ll be okay.” I expect him to give up and leave me alone, but instead he stays beside me. Kuroo rests his head in the nook of his crossed arms, his eyes quietly watching me work. Every so often I glance at him, every time he catches me and smiles. 

“Go to sleep, Kuroo.” I roll my eyes. 

“I will when you will,” He softly, tiredly, challenges back with a quirked eyebrow.

“Go to sleep,” I repeat. I try to shift my focus back on my assignments, but I can feel the heavy weight of Kuroo’s eyes waiting patiently on me. “Kuroo,” I whine. “Go to sleep, you’re going to make me feel bad for keeping you up.”

He softly chuckles, “Then let's go to sleep.” 

“I have so much work to do,” I sigh. 

“You _just_ told me that you are ahead of schedule, why don’t you treat yourself to a few hours of sleep?” He stifles a yawn.

We stare at each other, no one willing to back down. 

“ _Fine_ ,” I sigh exasperatedly. Trying to stall, I take longer to gather my papers and repeatedly save everything on my laptop. 

“ _Sabrina_ ,” Kuroo warns, he knows me too well by now.

“Yes, yes I’m going to bed.”

We walk down our hallway together, he gives me a nod goodnight and heads into his room. I remain standing in the hallway outside my doorway. I haven’t slept well in so long, even before college. The mere thought of spending _another_ restless night, tossing and turning, makes me just want to die inside. My body aches from my prolonged sitting and lack of sleep, my nerves feel as if they’re on fire. A moment later, out of the corner of my eye, I see his head poke out from his bedroom. Kuroo gives me a confused look, all I can muster is a half-hearted shrug. He walks over to me, and of all things, he hugs me. I lean my head into his chest, his arms over my shoulders. I can smell Kuroo’s body wash through his soft shirt, his heart playing a beat that I can fall asleep too. 

“I hope this doesn’t come off bad,” his voice is deep from his chest, hesitant. “But, uh, do you-, well. Uh,” he laughs nervously and pulls away from the hug. “Do you need-, well, no. I can, uh…” I look up, confused. “So like, Kenma’s insomnia was really bad last year because it was his first year being away from home and it was just a lot of stress. So on nights he didn’t livestream, I would hang out in his room until he fell asleep… and yeah. I can… do that… for you? If you want? If it’s not too weird for you I mean?”

I can’t help but gape, my cheeks heat up and thankfully the hallway is dark. 

“Again, it’s weird to ask you because maybe we aren’t _that_ close. I’m sorry, I’ll just..” Kuroo’s head drops embarrassed, he starts to turn on his heels. 

“It’s not dumb!” I quickly say, I grab onto the hem of his shirt to keep him from walking away. “I just, uh, didn’t expect that? From you? That actually sounds nice, um, as long as you won’t feel weird…”

“No, of course not.” He says quickly and hugs me again, “I can stay until you sleep and just go back to my room.”

“I mean-" I check my watch, "-at this time we are literally getting, like, maybe 3 hours of sleep. If you can’t bring yourself to move from how exhausted you are, don’t worry about it..” I wave off the idea. 

Kuroo groans and reminisces, “I used to be asleep by 10.” 

“What was _that_ like?” I joke to hide my nervousness and the awkwardness of us staring at my bed.

“Do you have a side you prefer to sleep on?” My voice is slightly unsteady. 

“Which side do _you_ sleep on?”

“The left.”

“Oh… same.” 

“I don’t mind sleeping by the wall,” I add. 

He nods and let’s me settle into bed first before shutting off my bedroom light and door. Kuroo glances at my small nightlight and smiles softly. Awkwardly, we lay next to each other. My muscles tense, wishing I wouldn’t be so damn stiff next to him. I’m exhausted and I'm wishing I could just skip to the part when this starts to feel more normal, when Kuroo speaks up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you tonight?” I turn to my side and with all the conviction I can muster, I say yes. 

“Can I-,” Kuroo hesitates again, “Do you want me to hold you? Will that help you feel safe tonight?” The sincerity of his words, the kindness and gentleness in his voice, it’s almost overwhelming. 

“Yes,” I whisper, surprising myself. 

Kuroo shifts towards me, the dark covering the heat on my cheeks. On my bed, my lips gently brush against his neck. He pulls me close, his left arm holding my waist while the other on the small of my back. He's warm. In my cool room, I melt against his touch. 

“Is this okay?” His lips lightly touch my forehead. 

“Mhm.” I hum, slowly I can feel the tension in his body relax 

“Thank you Kuroo,” I whisper. 

“Please,” he replies. “Call me Tetsurou.” 

-(-)-


	10. Heather

Lately because of our midterms coming up so quickly, I’ve been spending most of time still in school and coming home late from studying or working. Because of this, Kuroo will carve time to still see me. After a long day of classes and a terrible shift at work, he will always make sure to pick me up. He’s the last face I really see for the day, since Kenma has been closed up in his room with gaming tournaments and streaming lately. My coworkers have since gotten used to seeing Kuroo, although they still tease me for being so close with him. But seeing him? I forget about how much my hips ache and I can’t help but smile back when his eyes meet mine, shining. 

It’s when the sun has finished setting and the sky is fading into those brilliant blue and green colors, when the cicadas still sing around you and the air finally starts to break into a cool night. Kuroo will ask me about work, to which I break out into rageful rants over customers who yelled at me or for being understaffed, yet again. Making him laugh has become my favorite hobby, if I can end his days with laughter then I will change my major to just that. I’ll ask Kuroo about his day, waiting to see if this time he will make light of his hard classes or if he will tell me the truth. It's easier now, all I have to do is not give into his light-hearted jokes about classes being a breeze. I stare at him, waiting, To which he sighs, letting down the walls he's been building all day. I listen to him just like he listens to me, even if I don’t understand what he’s talking about. We walk together with the sunsetting behind us, voices loud and gesturing wildly. We make each other laugh, I try not to get flustered when our hands accidentally touch. He holds my things for me, even when I beg him to just let me carry my own stuff. When he smiles, I can feel the spell being cast. His magnetic pull is too much for me, because no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to be drawn away from him. This is what I consider to be my favorite part of the day, as much as it irritates me to admit.

If I’m being honest, I know this is more than just a crush. That’s the most I will really ever admit though, because no matter how loud my heart sings when I’m around him, he isn’t just a roommate to me or a silly crush. Testū is my friend. And that’s more than enough for me. 

For some three weeks, we prepare for our exams. By "we", it's really just Kuroo. Kuroo, who finally gotten sick of Kenma and I procrastinating at home, plays drill sergeant. He drags Kenma out of his room and demands that he studies with the flashcards Kuroo made a year ago or else Kenma won’t be allowed to livestream for a week. With me he flicks my forehead for making fun of Kenma and sits me down to study my Kanji or else. 

“Or else what?” I roll my eyes, opening my notebooks and clicking my pen. 

Kuroo smirks at me, “I’ll mobile order drinks for the entire team and demand that you be the only one to work on our order.”

I narrow my eyes, “ _You wouldn't._ ”

“I _would_ ,” he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed, my eyes flicker from his arms flexing to his stupid smirk on his face. 

I laugh and shake my head, “No way. My job doesn’t work that way, you can’t request stuff like that.”

“I’ve already bribed your shift managers, they’re on standby right now.” We stare at each other, neither of us wanting to lose this game. Even if this is a bluff, it’s not one I can afford to lose. 

I pull the hem of my shirt over my lips and glare at my papers, “Fine.”

“Hm? What was that?” Kuroo leans in close, pretending he didn’t hear my admittance of defeat. 

“Shut up and let me study,” I mutter, pushing his face away so he can't see the heat rising on my cheeks.

Most nights we can fend off Tetsū and get a break; but when we can't, this is how our routine goes: Tetsū will force us to study until a certain goal has been reached depending on the subject. Kenma huffing, relieved to be finally finished, will race off to his room to game. This will leave Kuroo and I sitting together in the kitchen studying alone. At first we can still manage to throw playful jabs at the other, sneaking in jokes at the other's expense. It's when it's late, that the pressure in the room rises. We pretend to not notice, both of us wishing we can stop being a dork about this. I will nervously tap my pencil, pretending to write something down. I ignore his nervous glances at me, while he picks at an invisible string on his hoodie. Then he will finally catch my eyes. My heart will stop, my brain will malfunction. _Sabrina.exe has glitched._ It’s hard to tear my eyes away from his, but I have to check the time to see if we should call it quits. I’ll sigh, seeing at how late it is. Gone is the drill sergeant when my eyes find his again, his lips part and then close again. _Just ask, because I know I won't,_ I always think. I can't help but stare at lips waiting for his question and wondering if I tried hard enough, would I be able to paint them in my memory?

Finally, he will quietly ask me if I want to be alone tonight, stammering because we both still aren’t sure how to talk about our nightly routine without becoming flustered.

I will ask him if he is okay with being with me again, not really answering his question. He gives me a shy smile, that I never hesitate to reciprocate. We duck our heads, I stress about whether or not I am making him uncomfortable. 

So I’ll bid him goodnight. I walk down the hallway and quietly knock on Kenma’s door to let him know I’m going to bed, not that he ever notices. He usually has his headphones in, and if I’m brave I’ll crack the door open to see him hunched over furiously maneuvering his fingers on his game controls. I don’t look back at Testū, still in the kitchen, who’s eyes have been trained on me. Once inside my room, I quickly try to make my room presentable and fix my bed even though we're just going to sleep. From my room, I can hear his door close and shuffling. Sometimes, he's there for what seems like forever, and I have half a mind asking him why the hell it takes him so long to put on sweats and a shirt. Sometimes, I'm sure I can hear him pacing and muttering. I don’t ask, though, because he’s too intuitive for his own good and will know that by me asking that’s admitting that he makes me nervous. His ego doesn’t need anymore fluffing. My heart will move to my throat when I hear his soft knock, I’ll turn to my side facing the wall so he can’t see how flustered I am despite the lights being off. He’ll come inside, and without fail will ask if I’m awake, even though he knows the answer. 

“No,” I always say, because I know it makes him scoff and it’ll break the tension we’ve dug ourselves into. I’ll feel the dip of the bed next to me, my heart will be pounding so hard that I’m terrified he will notice. 

Tetsū will tease me for being so stiff despite us doing this every night. Now it’s my turn to scoff, saying that it’s his fault I can’t trust him. Lately he's had a habit of touching poking my sides to watch me jump. If he's losing an argument with me, I better hope to be faster than he is. Now, it's even transformed to him poking my sides even in passing on the rare occasions that I don't notice him. The amount of times I've had jumped and squealed, turning quickly to see Kuroo giving me a cat-like grin, is stupid. So this is my excuse, he doesn't call out my bluff though if he knows any different. Sometimes, he banters back and we stay up arguing. Or he will poke my side again to hear my yelp and laugh. Other times, I'm swallowing down the words that threatens to tell him the _real_ reason why I can't relax being this close to him. Still, despite him making fun of me, he asks if it's okay if he gets comfortable. With my nod, he will snake his arms around my waist and tucks his chin into my hair. 

Sometimes we talk, whispering like two children on a sleepover. He tells me about his grandmother who practically raised him, his mom who left him and his father, who worked hard to provide for the three of them. He whispers how grateful he is for Kenma, because without him Kuroo admits that he’s thought of quitting and going back home too many times to fight. Kuroo relates back to middle school and high school, how hard he had to work to get scholarships because he knew his father couldn’t afford his schooling. I tell him about my own family, how much I love them and how proud I am of my little sister who has been studying abroad. We confess our fears. I confess that I’m always afraid that I made the wrong career choice, because I know my parents wished for me to be in something more practical. I tell him that I don’t actually believe I’m talented, that I’m worried I won’t be able to be the best in my class. He will listen, before telling me he knows exactly how I feel. His own feelings of inadequacy haunt him, whether it be about being a leader for the team or in taking care of Kenma. My heart stops when he adds me onto his small list of people he doesn’t want to disappoint. 

It’s at night when we can freely admit our fears, our desires, our dreams, our weird ideas and thoughts that only make sense at 3 in the morning. 

It’s at night when we let go of our demons, and hold onto each other. 

“I like your sheets,” he whispers in the dark. 

I giggle softly, “Thanks? They’re satin, to help reduce frizz. And it helps with clear skin too, apparently. But I still get zits.” He softly laughs and shushes me because my voice started getting too loud. 

“You’re terrible at whispering,” he teases. “If it helps your hair, why the buns?” I feel his hand lightly squeeze one of my buns. 

“Because my hair is stupid, sometimes it wants to be curly and sometimes it’s loose waves. Tomorrow I want them to be more enhanced, hence the buns." 

“Ooh, 'hence', we got a _smart girl_ here, huh? Your hair is complicated.”

In the dark, I can feel him still looking at my hair before feeling his finger trace my hairline and tucking a baby curl behind my ear. I click my tongue, “At least I don’t sport bedhead all day.” 

“My hair is cute, though right ?” He whispers, and even though I can't see it, I know he's smirking. 

“Unfortunately yes,” I admit with a smile he can’t see. 

Most nights his hands graze my arm, drawing aimless patterns. Sometimes I wish he was writing me secret notes on my skin, but if he has been I don’t find the pattern. One night instead of having my back flushed against his chest, I turn to face him. He complained when I forced him to get lower than me, but all his whining subsided when I card my fingers through his hair. I'm not sure what possessed me to do so, but I'm glad I did. Now, it becomes part of our nightly routine for me to stroke Tetsū’s hair and lightly scratch his scalp. He doesn't even try to hide how much he enjoys it, shamelessly humming with glee. If we are on the couch watching a k-drama together ( _which he swears he can't stand but for someone who doesn't care, he sure does cry a lot with me_ ), he will lay his head on my lap and place my hand in his hair. If I were to glance down, I'd see his eyes shut and bear witness to the most peaceful expression I've seen Tetsū have. 

One night, when Testū thinks I’ve fallen asleep, he confesses he sleeps better now. 

Our sleeping arrangement usually ends with me waking up to an empty bed since he goes on his early morning runs. I would think that waking up alone would make me feel lonely, but to be honest I’m just grateful that I actually get some sleep. None of this equates to my insomnia being cured or that my nightmares stop, of course. Sometimes I still wake up in a panic, tears still in my eyes. Kuroo is a light sleeper, and he normally feels me jerk awake, so he will help me lay back down and rub my back. He waits to see if I'll talk about my nightmares, but sometimes they're too real. So he pulls me in for a hug, rubbing my back to calm my nerves. He’s with me when I can’t fall asleep, telling me his life stories to get me to drowsy ( _although him explaining his classes in depth for the day will just about do it_ ). All of that means I get to wake up and for once feeling a little refreshed. The only time that it does hurt to wake up alone, is when I think too much about how it felt when he held me, consoling me when I retold the nightmares that haunted me just moments before. Or when I wake up in the middle of the night and just hear him sleeping next to me, knowing I’m not alone. This is when it hurts so much that I close my eyes and wish I can just go back to sleep, because feeling him beside me like this is making it harder for me not to fall... It’s a bitter truth that settles on my tongue, knowing that his heart belongs to someone else.

There have been days since then that I start to feel guilty, I pull away from him and insist that I can walk to work on my own. I won't text him as much, or cancel our lunch dates with a flimsy excuse, or I would talk to the other teammates during our practices more. But what am I supposed to tell him, when he walks us home and he gives me that questioning look that I _know_ is asking me why I wasn’t around as much today? _What can I say? That I love our friendship, but I care about you too deeply to handle these small moments we have together? Kuroo, I am finally sleeping but sometimes I can't because I'm thinking about her. If you're like this with me, Tetsū, how are you with Heather?_

So instead I cave in, I smile and shake my head, _Nothing, nothing is wrong._ As much as a try to fool myself, I know that most friends don’t do this. Still in the mornings after, I will shut my eyes and wait for him to pull away from me and walk out of my room oblivious to my own breaking heart. 

Lately though, I can see it in his face. The way it twists when his phone rings. _Heather_. Kenma and I will watch Kuroo excuse himself out of the living room where we were in the middle of playing a video game. Kenma will look back at me and sigh, telling me that lately she’s been picking a lot of fights with him. I can't ask if she knows that he doesn't sleep in his own room because his roomate gets nightmares, I can't because there's an unspoken rule not to. My stomach drops when I hear her ringtone. Because we are both nosy, Kenma will try to translate their fights since Kuroo's arm gets too tired holding his phone and puts it on speaker. It's how I know that Heather fights with Kuroo about the most mundane things. All of it too familiar with my previous ex. In the middle of a practice, a phone will ring and we all know it’s Tetsū’s girlfriend calling him again. It happens more and more. Always Heather calling. God forbid Kuroo calls first though, because she won’t pick up for him. 

One night after work, I’m afraid to admit that my stomach dropped when I didn’t see Kuroo standing outside waiting for me. My first thought was normal, maybe he’s just around the corner. But as my manager locked the doors behind us, looking around there was no one standing and waiting for me. It’s slightly embarrassing to admit, but I really did start to rely on Kuroo. I reassured my manager that I’m okay in walking by myself, no I didn’t need a ride. Walking home, I felt the loneliness without having my friend beside me. Thoughts of anxiety flooded me, something was wrong, I just knew it.

Getting home, it was eerily quiet. On the fridge was a note from Kenma saying he was over at Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment, but nothing from Kuroo. If I hadn’t paused my music I would’ve missed it. A pitiful whimper, a painful breath being drawn. I remember how awful it was, when I pushed open Kuroo’s door and saw him shamefully wiping tears away from his red-rimmed eyes. It’s the first time his eyes, so golden, have become truly pale. 

“Oh crap,” his eyebrows pull together with concern. “I’m so sorry, I was supposed to pick you up-“

“Tetsū…what…are you…?” I stammer and sit beside him. “What wrong?” My voice is barely above a whisper, my own voice thickening with tears seeing him in so much pain. I sat next to him, careful not to startle him. 

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head and sniffs. It startled me how intensely he stared at me, his eyes full of concern when he was the one crying. “Why do you look like _you're_ about to cry?” 

I jerk my head and blink, “What? No I’m not.”

He laughs and wipes the corner of his eyes again, “How are you trying to lie about this? I'm looking at you _right_ _now_.”

I scoff, “You’re such a pain. It’s impossible to look at you right now and _not_ feel bad.” I huff and turn my body away from him to glare at his wall opposite of us. 

He laughs again with a small sniffle, and leans his head against my shoulder. His body warmth melts away my faux annoyance.

I look down at him, my heart pulling at his sad eyes. “What happened Tetsū?”

He’s quiet against me, I can only hear the sounds of his deep breaths. “She just-,” he starts, muffled because he turned his face into the fabric of my sweater. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I feel like all I do is try, and try, and try. She just doesn’t think it’s enough.” 

I’m not really sure how to respond, nothing I want to say is actually helpful. 

“I don’t even understand why she was so pissed at me, I don’t. All I said was that school was stressful, that I wish she were here, and then she flipped out.”

I know it’s about him right now, I do. I just wish someone would tell my heart that because it is adamant in telling me how much it hurts. 

“Then she said that me saying I was stressed was a-,” he scoffs, “A burden? Something like that.” I tighten my fists at the thought that anyone could ever say that to someone they care about. “I’m just confused, I don’t see what I’m doing wrong.” 

My lack of words makes him pick his head up and look at me again, “Sorry I’m just-,” he takes a deep breath and sighs, “It’s midterms, man. Then finals are coming up? All this stress is making me emotional, I guess. Or high strung, I don’t know.” He forces a laugh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. 

I look at him with my eyebrows furrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with being emotional, Tetsū. There’s nothing wrong with you.” I squeeze his fingers to emphasize my words, refusing for my eyes to tear away from his. 

He’s eyes gleam, “I wish she thought that too. She said she needed a break from me and my issues.” Kuroo gives a small shake and breaks eye contact with me. 

“Wait- what?” I stumble over my words angrily, “She said-, what? What does that mean she needs a break? Are you guys-, I don’t-, what?!” 

Kuroo shrugs, “I don’t know, man. I asked her and then she hung up on me. I tried calling and she blocked me I think.” He lets put a pitiful laugh letting his head fall, his hands pull tightly on his hair. 

“I-,” Disbelief floods me, “I-, Ugh! I don’t-!” I bite my knuckle, better to not say exactly what’s on my mind and make things worse. 

“It’s okay, Sabrina.” My eyes drift towards his low voice, Kuroo’s legs are tucked in and his arms rest on top of his knees where he’s tucked his head. 

“It’s not!” I shout, “I’m sorry but it’s not okay!”

“Sabrina-“

“No Kuroo,” I interject. My saying his last name and not his first causes Kuroo to peek his head out and look at me with his full attention. “You’re my friend-!”

“I know-“ He interrupts. 

“No! You’re _my friend! You’re my friend!”_ I try not to raise my voice any louder but frustration wins against me. 

“Okay! Okay! I know that, why do you keep saying that?” He stares are me wild-eyes, confused at my sudden outburst.

“ _You’re my friend!_ I don’t stand for my friends being treated this way, you don’t deserve to be treated this way! I'm sorry, but she's full of crap," I throw my hands in the air angrily, huffing. I know he’s still looking at me, but I’m too upset to look back at him now. A clock he had mounted on the wall ticks away the seconds and fills in the silence. His small laugh brings my attention back to him. He sits up a little taller, stretching out his legs and resting his head on his hand now. His eyes find mine, solemn.

Kuroo clears his throat, “You're right.” I blink at him, this is the first time since I’ve known Kuroo that he’s admitted that I was right about anything. 

“What?” My voice suddenly smaller.

“You’re right,” Kuroo looks down at his bedroom floor, “If you were being treated this way by your boyfriend I’d be just as pissed. I think the only thing she was right about was saying we needed space from each other.”

Stunned, I stay quiet. But of course my heart yearns for a deeper answer. 

“So-so what does that mean then?” I say a lot quieter than before. 

Kuroo takes in a deep breath before answering, “I think it means we aren’t together? Not that it's even felt that there was a relationship between her and I." He rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Obviously I’m going to have to talk more with her about it, because we have to be on the same page as this. But right now, I think it means we… are done. I guess we've been done for a while now,” His eyes are dull, tired. We sit next to each other in a comfortable, but heavy silence. Words we don’t say linger in the air and in our minds. 

With slight hesitation I pull him in for a hug, “'M'sorry that things suck, right now. Just know you have all of us here to talk to, okay? There’s no reason for you to be alone.” For a second, he stills, knowing I’m not one to initiate hugs. In fact, he’s gotten into arguments with me on why I can hug Bokuto freely and not him. The answer is quite obvious but _I’m_ not telling him that. He gets over his surprise and he holds onto me, squeezing me tightly.

He gives me a nod and pulls away from me rolling his eyes, “You're such a sap.”

I hit his shoulder, rolling my eyes back at him, “Whatever. Shut up.” 

I hear his laugh again. Hearing him laugh, genuinely? There isn’t a better sound in the world. 

-(-)-


	11. Sore Spots

That night I expected him to stay in his room, but like every night he stays with me until I fall asleep. The next morning though, I’m surprised to find that he’s still with me. Now, the closer we get to midterms, the more he slacks on his early runs. If I wake up before he does ( _which is incredibly difficult because he’s naturally a morning person_ ), I can feel his hands draped over my waist keeping me close to him as if he’s afraid I’ll roll away from him in my sleep. Sometimes, his head is buried in the crook of my neck and shoulder, and I can feel his soft hair brushing against my cheek and just smell just the hint of my conditioner he swears he’s not using. Right now, his arms are around my torso and I can feel his forehead pressed against my back. I’m drifting back to sleep, a luxury since I don’t have any classes at all today, when I feel him start to stir away. My heart thumps, my breath stills. I wait for the moment he remembers that he’s still in my bed, still holding me, and he jerks away. I wait for him to break my heart again. Instead, he pulls me in impossibly closer with a content sigh.   
  


“Tetsū,” I start to ask one afternoon, a week later, “Before, like, with what happened, what did you do when Heather called in the middle of the night? Because I didn’t ever hear your phone like when…” I trail off my voice, not wanting Kenma to overhear. 

He rubs the back of his neck, tapping his pencil against his notes and avoids my eyes, “Ah I had told her she needed to stop calling me at 4 in the morning since it started to uh, interrupt me sleeping… and school…” 

At that sound of Kenma’s laugh the both of us jump, neither of us heard him walk out of his room. “How did _that_ go?”

“Oh she was pissed,” Kuroo rubs his blushing cheeks and laughs, “Said she was going to stop calling me all together then if I wasn’t going to appreciate her like she does for me. But whatever, literally all she did was talk the entire time about people I didn't know and wouldn't introduce me to. I think she just liked the idea of dating me, instead of the reality. ” He shakes his head and goes back to finishing his homework. Kenma and I only share a glance. 

“Have you talked to her?” Kenma passes behind me, giving me a greeting tap on my shoulder before going into the fridge. 

“Uh, no. She blocked me on Instagram and Twitter, though. So I’m safe to assume that we are done.” Kuroo gives an uncertain smile and shrugs, _what more can he do_? "According to Bokuto, we've been done since the moment she refused to move here." 

“Good,” is all Kenma says before heading back to his room. We keep looking down the hallway where he disappeared, both of us wondering if Kenma knows that we sleep in the same bed at night.

-(-)-

With official matches having started for us, our team has been working harder and harder. Because of this, Bokuto and Kuroo have been forcing me to help them practice after everyone leaves. Unfortunately this catches the attention of our librero, Jonathon, who’s very enthusiastic and borderline hyper. When I let it slip that I like receiving balls more than spiking, he takes it upon himself to teach me how to be a librero. Honestly it’s my favorite position so I’m not complaining, but I will complain about him being the worst teacher in the world. Which I repeatedly tell him. But I keep pushing myself in our mini lessons because it’s Jonathan, he’s the one who helps keep the energy up during practice matches and motivates the team to move forward even when they feel like their legs are jelly. His enthusiasm catches quickly like a wildfire, and while you can’t help but roll your eyes at his lack of teaching direction, his patience and encouragement is what motivates a person to do their best. So now I go home with a sense of accomplishment and multiple bruises forming on my arms. 

Lately, I feel closer to the other team members. I think Kuroo and Bokuto had something to do about that, I once told them that I felt awkward around the others because they never talked to me much. Now, though, after intense workouts and drills, when I’m passing water out, they high-five me or bump fists with me. Watching them work so hard, I see how well they work together as a team. Anyone can see how much they push the other to be better, how competitive they are to be the best. It’s inspiring, because our team isn’t a powerhouse team based solely on the fact that our team has volleyball prodigies or there’s geniuses on the cart. 

It’s because they all work hard to be the best. 

So I push through my sore muscles and aching bruises to help them train as much as I can. In my spare time, Akaashi will occasionally go on runs with me to which I eventually beg for him to slow down. I continue training with Bokuto, even though I’m still a novice and my skills aren’t exactly honing his own, although he reassures me that anything I can give is enough for him. His ego skyrockets when I ask to see some new moves from him, much to Akaashi’s dismay. And Kenma's. And Kuroo's. 

"Oi, what about mine?" Kuroo asks. He motions to set the ball but instead he brings it down to his lips and kisses the ball, smirking. I pretend to gag, Kenma throws a water bottle at his head. 

Kenma pokes fun at me when I drag myself home, the ground seemingly swaying underneath my feet. But Kuroo is at a different level of bullying now. Kuroo teases me while he draws me an ice bath to lay in, he teases me while making me a hot tea to drink. They tease me the mornings after practices when I can barely walk from how sore my body is. All this teasing pisses me off enough to keep going, to keep pushing my body to its limits and to keep moving forward. I manage to push through the brain fog and realize that this is precisely why Kuroo eggs me on so much, because he knows how stupidly competitive I get. 

At night, though, when my eyelids are too heavy and my body is begging for me to cave in and just go to sleep, Kuroo gently massages the tense muscles in my shoulders and arms. 

“You know you don’t have to do any of this,” he whispers. I mumble a response incoherently. 

“What?” His voice is light, playful. 

“I know,” I sigh at the amount of effort it takes for me to repeat myself. “'M honestly having fun though.” 

He hums, “That’s nice. But still, you look like a zombie now.” 

“Tsk,” I click my tongue. “A hot one. Leave me alone to go to sleep.” 

He softly laughs, “Goodnight, _baka._ ” 

“G’night,” I mumble. I’m almost too tired to really enjoy the feeling of Kuroo pressing himself closer to me, the tip of his nose cold against my neck, the feeling of him completely melting against me. 

Almost. 

  
-(-)-

“Ow!” I yelp, Kenma had pushed down on one of my bruises. “Stop it or next time I’m hiding your video games.” The three of us keep our eyes glued to the screen as Kenma and I battle yet another round of Smash Bros. So far he’s won all our rounds tonight, but maybe I can win just _one_ if he would stop being a dirty player and stop poking my bruises. “You’re literally cheating, Kenma!”

“You’re not going to hide them, because those games pay for the WiFi you guys are too broke for,” he says smugly.

I flip Kenma off, not giving him so much as another glance although I see him do the same to me. I’m doing my best to ignore his teasing, I know he’s doing it to provoke me. I try to keep telling myself this so I don’t give into his insults, until I hear him eating. 

“Oh my god, you’re eating my PMS snacks!” I attempt to snatch my bag of candy from Kenmas hands, but he’s relentless and refuses to let go. Somehow with one hand he manages to still fight on screen, leaving me defenseless and losing even more badly. 

“They weren’t marked as such,” he argues. “Ergo, overruled.” 

“That’s not how it works,” I finally am able to grab hold of it, I shove my hand into the bag and throw a handful onto his lap. “There. Keep eating my snacks and I’m gonna tell Riviera to give your extra conditioning.” Riviera, our team captain, lately has been cracking down on Kenma’s attempts to slack off during practices. 

“I’m not afraid of Riviera,” Kenma chuckles, he manages to poke my bruises again and laughs at my pain. I go to pause the game, but curse when I realize that he’s already beaten me. I take this opportunity to smack him. Kuroo flicks both of us from behind the couch.

“Stop fighting,” Kuroo sighs. “I swear you both are going to be the death of me.” He sinks down next to me, exhausted from today’s grueling training. 

“Some people find our dynamic refreshing and entertaining,” I pop a mini Snickers in my mouth right when the level starts to load. Kenma and I lean forward, I’m determined to actually win against him for once in my life. 

“Dude we just spent three hours on drills, why are you gorging on junk?” Kuroo sneaks a candy from my hand. I lightly shove his arm away, scoffing when he reaches for another with a wry smile plastered on his face. 

“ _B_ _ecause we spent three hours training and I’m still starving._ ” Kenma scoffs and rolls his eyes like it was an obvious fact. 

“If you’re starving then stop playing and eat something,” I can almost hear Kuroo’s eye roll. 

“I will when I beat Sabrina’s ass for the thousandth time today,” Kenma waves him off absentmindedly. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I scoff. “It’s been like…” I can't think clearly with stupid Kenma attacking me in the game.

“Too high to count?” Kenma laughs. 

“Can you even count that high?” Kuroo joins in on the banter, I can’t help but feel a little peeved at his comment. 

“Hey Kenma, if I win this round I get to cut your hair next,” I smirk, trying not to show my irritation or intimidation when I remember that I _am_ playing against a professional gamer. 

He just laughs, “That’s cute. You’re not going to win.”

“Just a trim, I think Tetsū’s hair came out pretty nicely.” Our characters start fighting each other, I'm already losing HP. I glance at Kuroo, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“It did, thank you.” Kuroo quietly says. He scolds us both when we start arguing again. 

“You know, you and Bokuto are worse than Sabrina and I.” Kenma effortlessly beats me and loads up another level for us. I lean back, more exhausted by this than I am playing volleyball. 

“Yeah. You both had, like, an hour long discussion on whether or not cookie dough could be considered as dessert sushi,” I chuckle. “Riveting topic, but still.” 

“Remember when you ‘ _accidentally_ ’ sent a ball to Bokuto’s face when Sabrina-.” Kenma turns to Kuroo with a cheeky grin. 

“Shut up.” Kuroo practically grits his teeth. 

“I don’t remember this?” I laugh, looking at Kuroo who’s starting to blush. 

“That’s because he’s thrown a ball at Bokuto’s head too many times to count,” Kenma laughs. “But this time it was because he saw you doting on Bokuto about some rebound move you haven’t seen.” 

“What?!” My smile widens, and Kuroo looks more embarrassed. 

Kuroo, with the tips of his ears now pink, retorts. “We don’t need anyone else to inflate that airhead any more.” 

“You and Bokuto are somehow the loudest on the team, and our team is extremely loud as it is,” I say. 

“Whenever you-,” Kenma starts to laugh. “-whenever you and Bokuto are near each other, I take a migraine pill just to prepare myself ahead of time,” Kenma’s snickering sets off my giggling. 

“You know that practice match with Louisville? Coach actually contemplated kicking you and Bokuto off the team because you guys kept trash talking _each other_.”

Kenma laughs harder at that, “Wait really?” I can only nod from how much I’m laughing. 

“Kuroo-,” Kenma starts giggling again, “Kuroo and Bokuto switched hairstyles for a week.”

“Aw that’s actually adorable,” I laugh and see Kuroo blushing, clearly agitated at us poking fun at him. 

“Oh! Once they both raced each other while it was raining and both slipped so bad that they couldn’t play for a week, Coach _and_ Kiyoko were so pissed!” Kenma and I laugh at our digs. 

“You know, if you put in the same effort you use for these jokes or these video games you might one day get more than 67% on your calculus exam,” Kuroo finally retorts. That shuts me up nicely. 

“Don’t mind him,” Kenma laughs at my irritation. “He resorts to being petty when he knows he’s losing.” 

I puff out my cheeks and force a smile, “He’s right. I do have homework to finish. Here.” I hand Kuroo my controller and walk off.   
  


“ _You’re so childish,”_ Kenma snickers in Japanese. 

“ _You guys started it,”_ Kuroo groans.

It’s times like this that I feel proud in knowing parts of what they say, however right now I don’t care to enjoy it. Since I’ve known them, the guys always speak English around me. After telling them that I’m learning Japanese though, they let their native language slip into our conversations. They’re patient, although Kenma and Akaashi have a playful tendency to make fun of my nixed words. 

In my room, I crack open my textbooks and laptop and get to work. I’m pretty much ahead of my animation classes and I don’t _need_ to work on anything for illustration right now, my main focus is stupid math. My eyes move between my textbook and my laptop, my hand clenching my pencil. An hour passes and I’m barely through a third of my questions, I resist the urge to just look up the answers, determined to do this on my own. There’s a knock on my door and Kuroo pokes his head into my room. 

“What Kuroo?” I say flatly, barely giving him a glance. 

“Ouch,” he winces at me using his last name. “‘M sorry for pissing you off,” he apologizes sheepishly. 

“I accept the apology,” I dryly say. 

Kuroo laughs, “Sure. But seriously, I didn’t think your exam score was such a sore spot since you were making fun of yourself so much about it.”

I groan, “Yeah but it also sucked that I did all that studying just to get a 67. I looked at my test again, and there were times I could've gotten the right answer if I just didn't mix numbers on accident. You know how frustrating that is?”

“You didn’t tell me you needed help with calc,” Kuroo leans over my desk to see my textbook. 

“I know,” I mutter. I turn to face him with a small cringe, “I need help with stupid math.” Kuroo smiles, sits next to me and checks my work. 

“Now,” he grins wickedly, “was that so hard?”

-(-)-


	12. Milk

Akaashi is the one who suggests we study all together and collaborate to get ready for midterms, so now we get together after practices on Wednesday and Sunday nights. Kuroo shares his notes though they’re too advanced for us to completely understand. I smile each time I remember nudging Kuroo and silently pointing to the science puns he makes in the margins, how his cheeks flushed a deep red. It caught the attention of Bokuto who peaked over and laughed at how embarrassed Kuroo became. 

“I don’t get it, you pester us with those stupid jokes and you’re embarrassed she’s reading them?” Bokuto exclaims. Kuroo smacks Kenma for snickering. 

“Ah crap!” I grab napkins and dab Kuroo’s notes. “I’m so sorry!” My chai latte left rings on top of his handwriting, our hands graze when he helps me dab the stains. 

“It’s okay,” he laughs. “You can still read my jokes at least.” We all groan in response.   
  


The good feeling in the air dies when Kuroo tells us one night that Heather finally got back in touch with him, and that she wants to try again. Kenma is the first one to voice his opinions, the rest of us staying quiet. What starts out as Kenma shutting down Kuroo completely, takes a turn off the worst. Kuroo loses patience, a vein pulses at the side of his forehead. I’ve never seen Kenma this agitated, his voice gets louder trying to compete with Kuroo’s growing voice. Accusations and insults are thrown. They stop yelling in English and start to scream at each other in Japanese. Still, I know Kenma is holding back because he hasn’t told Kuroo about how Heather used to treat him back in the day. It’s when the two of them stand up and stomp towards each other that Bokuto and Akaashi fling themselves forward to separate the two friends. 

The mood back home is tense, neither of them wanting to take the first step to apologize. It gets worse when Kuroo tells us that Heather is coming to visit after midterms. Kenma has since given Kuroo the cold shoulder, bidding goodbye to me but completely ignoring Kuroo’s comments. As much as Kuroo pretends that he’s okay, pretending that Kenma’s treatment isn’t bothering him, you’d have to be an idiot to believe him. Since their fight, Kuroo has been clumsy during practices and dropping things at home. With my anxiety high, and not knowing what to do to fix this, I throw all my restless energy into a small manga I have to turn in next week. Akaashi and I work almost every night together helping each other out with our manga projects. He edits my dialogue and plot and I help finish his beta shading and backgrounds. We work late into the night, running on coffee from my job and tea that Kuroo will brew for us. Unfortunately with him still fighting with Kenma and being a whiz at studying, he tries to sit in on Akaashi and I working. I don’t actually mind, and neither does Akaashi, for whatever reason though I get the feeling that Kuroo is starting to feel… Left out? 

On one night, I whispered this concern to Akaashi. He glanced at my door, Kuroo had just left to go pick up Kenma from his labs. On my bedroom floor we’ve spread out Akaashi’s graphic novel in chronological order, that night he decided he wanted to scrap half of his dialogue and redraw it. With most of mine done, I decided to help him fill out his rough sketches. We were in for a long night, the snacks Akaashi brought was going to be our dinner and we prayed that we didn’t run out of ink. 

“I mean, he knows that this is… what art majors do right?” Akaashi’s deep blue eyes held mine steady. 

I couldn’t help but laugh, “I mean, yeah. I don’t know, man. I just get the feeling he’s…”

“Lonely?” 

I scoffed, “He’s anything but lonely. But he and Kenma _barely_ talk.”

“Still?” Akaashi took the page I finished, nodded at my work and set it aside with the finished pile. 

“It’s unnerving,” I admitted while massaging my hand before moving onto the next page. “They’re both so petty, it’s like psychological warfare.”

Akaashi laughed and continued sketching out panels, “Yeah I don’t doubt that. If you want, we can do this back at my place if you need time to breathe.” 

“Ugh then that means I have to go to your place and then come back here and I’d just be exhausted,” I felt drained at just the thought of it. 

“Imagine how I feel,” Akaashi chuckled. 

“Well if you wouldn’t have scrapped most of your pages we wouldn’t be here,” I scoffed before adding, “Not that I mind. It’s fun collaborating.”

By the time Kuroo came back, we had only 80% of it done and we plan on stopping anytime soon. He sat next to me, observing us work. To include him, I asked if he could erase the pencil lines after I inked. Kuroo gladly took this job, with each page he checked with me to make sure everything looked good. He led our conversations to lighten our moods, he managed to make us laugh and even got Akaashi to admit that he didn’t understand taxes despite filing them for Bokuto. When it got late though, Kuroo leaned against me more and more tired. He grew quieter, to a point where it was just Akaashi and I exchanging comments about our classes and teachers. Kuroo didn’t even respond to our gossip about classmates we had in common, which told me he was tapped out. 

“Why don't you sleep, Tetsū?” I asked him, gently patting his head that rested on my shoulder. He was practically resting his entire weight on my body at that point. 

“You’re still awake,” he replied sleepily. I had glanced at Akaashi, nervous he might understand Kuroo’s implications. He wouldn’t sleep, simply because that meant I would sleep alone later on. Luckily, if Akaashi understood what Kuroo meant he didn’t show it. 

Eventually though, I forced Kuroo to go to his room and sleep. Most nights ended like that. 

The closer we get to midterms, the more I feel like Kuroo became more tightly wound. Juggling to study for our classes and our gen classes got tougher, but we managed. The more stressed he got, the harder he studied and the harder he played volleyball. After one practice, I had to force Kuroo to sit in an ice bath that Kenma helped me make. He sat there for 20 minutes, letting me put on a face mask on him. He was quiet, he barely hummed when I stroked his hair. Kenma and him were still avoiding conversation unless necessary, add in the pressure to be on top, and you find a very stressed Kuroo. 

“You know it’s just midterms right?” I asked him, wiping off some residual of the mask. His eyes opened, closely watching me. 

“I’m not that stressed about midterms,” he said. 

“Then what is it?” I pushed back his wet hair, and playfully flicked his forehead. 

“Agh,” he winced before giving me a deep sigh, “I don’t know. The closer we get to our break the more anxious I get.” 

I only hummed in response, I had a feeling why but with his situation with Kenma I didn’t want to isolate him more. 

As our due dates got closer for our projects, the harder Akaashi and I worked. Something in the air changes when Kuroo sees Akaashi and I in my room hovering over our pages and mumbling in a language he doesn't understand. I do my best to translate, even giving him some simple tasks that helped us. I still can't help noticing Kuroo pulling back from us. When Akaashi told a joke though that made me laugh, Kuroo tensed next to me. If I moved across the room to look at a scene Akaashi drew, Kuroo just stared. I know we aren’t purposely ignoring him, in fact we try our best to answer his questions. But.. It’s hard not to trail off while talking to Kuroo when I catch a mistake in our panel. I feel bad when I forget what I was talking about when I have to hand back said page to Akaashi so he can fix the inconsistency. I suppose it doesn’t help that Akaashi politely interrupts our light conversation so I can clarify part of the plot, wondering aloud if I should add another panel so that there’s no confusion. _All of this is just us working_ , I tell myself. But it does become lonely when Kuroo stops joining us, only stopping in to make sure we’ve been keeping hydrated. 

After one of our practices, the five of us sit in the library with a makeshift workstation for all of us. The fight between Kenma and Kuroo is temporarily forgotten as Kuroo pushes past his ego to help him study for bio and Kenma swallows his pride to accept the help. Bokuto is feverishly working on a psych paper, stopping every once in a while to ask Akaashi if one of his paragraphs made sense. I’ve laid out expired pastries from my night shift, to which Bokuto and I have eaten the most of. Akaashi is helping me wrap up my project while I finish up inking in his manga panels, every once in awhile I catch Kuroo looking over at us. 

“Hey so I was thinking that we should collaborate together and actually finish this out,” Akaashi says without looking up from editing. 

“You think so?” I absentmindedly reply, more focused on making sure I don’t mess up. 

“Yeah this is a solid plot, the characters might need some adjusting in their design but nothing major-“

“How about you guys focus on studying for your stuff _now_ instead of working on something for the future.” Kuroo interrupts, coolly. My hand stops, I look up at Kuroo in disbelief that he said something so borderline rude. Kuroo’s lips are pressed in a tight line, his eyes harshly stare down at his notes, writing feverishly and avoiding my gaze. 

“Hey wanna relax, man? We’ve been working on this for a while,” I narrow my eyes out of confusion and irritation. There’s no reason for him to be this much of an ass right now. 

We continue bouncing ideas off each other, Kenma chiming in to tell us what he thinks as a potential reader. I finish up inking and start massaging the stiff joints in my left hand, Akaashi takes notes of our ideas and Kenma’s input, Bokuto surprisingly has a few suggestions that actually work. After enough time resting my hand, I pull out my tablet to finish up on another art project due soon. Akaashi glances over and praises the color scheme I chose as well as makes a point to let me know that my backgrounds have gotten so much better. Kuroo stays quiet, every once in awhile I catch him looking over at us working. 

“What?” Akaashi glances at him.

“Nothing,” he goes back to helping Kenma with his equations. Bokuto and I share a look. 

Kenma asks me about work, probably hoping it’ll give him five minutes away from Drill Sergeant Kuroo. I can’t help but groan at the memories from my shift, and I’ll gladly give Kenma an opportunity to get a break. “So I’m clearly trying to do three jobs at once, since I’m working the DTO _and_ window, and helping drinks, right? Well I had this dumbass old man yell at me because he kept mumbling his order. He yelled at me because I had asked him to repeat his over like three times because each time he’s adamant in not speaking up.” I pause to catch my breath, giving time for Bokuto and Kenma to snicker. 

“So each time he repeats it goes 'Give me 2 venti chais with 12 pumps each and no ice-‘ and then MUMBLES THE REST OF HIS ORDER AGAIN!” I grumble, “So now when I’m asking him to repeat that last part he gets all pissy with me. And then has the _audacity_ to tell me that clearly we never do this one thing because otherwise I will know what he’s talking about! And that’s when he finally speaks loud enough to tell me that he wants us to push down the lever- _that’s right, he said lever, as if we are in some evil lair and we have levers and not just simple pumps for sauces and syrups_ -hard enough for each 12 pumps of chai.” I take another breath, still pissed off at the thought of him. “So I snapped! I say, _‘Oh! I see!_ You’re asking us to do our job!’ As condescendingly as I could get.’” I sit back annoyed all over again, taking a long sip of water. 

Bokuto laughs, “What did he say?” He takes a pause from his paper to pay full attention to my story. 

I contort my face to a sweet smile, “‘ _Yes! Thank you_!”’ I drop my fake smile. “He was such a jerk, I swear. Kill all men!”

“Wait, what?” Kuroo finally acknowledging my story, looks up at me . 

“I stand by that statement,” I huff, “Except for Akaashi.” At that, Akaashi snickers but my eyes travel to Kuroo who looks less than amused. 

“Eh? And me, Sabi-chan?” Bokuto grins, “I helped you with your thesis that one time!”

“And Bokuto.” I add. 

Kuroo scoffs, “Am _I_ on your kill list?” 

“You have been on my ass about school long enough,” I point my pen at him. Kenma laughs, agreeing with me. 

“Kill all men, eat the rich.” Bokuto and I chant together. 

“Wouldn’t that include, Kenma?” Kuroo asks, “He’s the one who has a three screen PC in his room.” 

“It pays the bills, doesn't it?” Kenma continues his equations without looking up. 

We decided to end sometime after midnight. Kenma tells us he’s going over their apartment to play video games, Kuroo declined his invitation. _Great, that would’ve probably ended this whole thing between them and now we go another day with them acting this way._ We walk together back home quietly. There’s a cool breeze, cicadas fill the air with their singing. Kuroo is lost in thought, I keep stealing glances wondering if he even knows that we haven’t talked at all this entire time. 

“You okay?” He asks me, briefly looking down at me.

“Uh, yeah?” I shift my gaze off to the side and pretending that the lights are catching my attention. 

“You keep looking at me,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Are _you_ okay? You’ve been acting weird all night.” I shift my backpack to my other shoulder, but Kuroo takes it from me without a word. He carries my things for me, but still hasn’t answered my question. 

“Well?” I push. 

“I’m fine,” he replies bluntly. Everything about him says differently, from the way his jaw is clenched and his hard stare ahead of us. Subconsciously I take a half step away from him, feeling uncomfortable with whatever is making him this irritated. 

I’m tempted to fill in the heavy silence, but every time I so much as open my mouth the fear of annoying him further shuts me back up again. In any other circumstance I would’ve put on my headphones and listened to music instead of being ignored, but then I remember Kuroo telling me how I used to do that when we first met and it hurt because he thought I couldn’t care less about our conversation. Of course I stopped, not without assuring him that I wasn’t ignoring him and explained that music is a crutch for me. I’m still going back and forth on the matter when we reach the house. Silently, I let out a sigh of relief and keep my head down as he unlocks the front door. Kuroo beelines to the bathroom for a shower, leaving me alone in the living room without a word. I take a look around the empty house, wondering if I should’ve just gone with Kenma and hung out with them instead of being in this tense place with Kuroo. After eating a bowl of cereal, I decided to finish up my graphic novel and turn it in tonight for extra credit. My neck and back hurts from crouching for so long, I have to massage my fingers to loosen up the tension in my joints. My eyes are tired, I need to refill my water bottle. All of this on top of worrying about my midterm grades is on my mind when Kuroo bursts into my room carrying a milk jug, angry. 

“Did you finish this?” He asks, glaring at me. 

“Uh, yeah I had a bowl of cereal. Sorry?” A headache between my eyes starts to set in, I pinch where it hurts and yawn. “I’ll buy milk tomorrow-.”

“Yeah because I’m sick of coming home and finding things finished or empty and no one friggin’ buys more,” he scoffs. 

“Tetsū, I already apologized. You want me to go get some right now? Because I can,” I carefully say, not wanting my own annoyance to bleed through my words. 

“That would be the bare minimum of what you can do,” he rolls his eyes. 

At that, I lose my patience. “Fine!” I quickly save my work and shut my laptop, grabbing my keys and wallet with me. “I’ll be back-“

“Where are you going? All the stores are closed because it’s past midnight, this is the kind of crap that pisses me off about you and a Kenma! You guys rely on me to get these things done and when I-“

“Oh please,” I interrupt, standing my ground in front of him, “Don’t pull this crap on me. We don’t rely on you, Kuroo! You wanna get pissy with me finishing the milk? Fine! I’ll go buy some freaking more. But how about when you leave all of your school crap around for me to pick up, why then, does it not bother you about someone picking up the slack? Don’t you think it annoys me when you and Kenma don’t wipe the sink after you brush your teeth?” We glare at each other. His silence pushes me further, “How about the fact that when I do laundry I’ll finish yours so I can even start mine? Or that I check in on you both to make sure you’ve eaten and drank water, does that go out the window because I finished the milk?”

“That’s not the point-"

“Oh, please fill me in then!” I sarcastically laugh. “I don’t know what your deal is tonight, Kuroo. You’ve been acting like a child the entire study group, you completely ignored Akaashi and Kenma when they said bye. You ignored _me_ , and the first real conversation you even have with me is an effing fight about-what? _Milk_?” Annoyance eggs on my headache into a migraine. _Great._

“Whatever,” he mutters, “I have not been acting like a child though-“ 

“Oh yeah?” I cross my arms, “Then why did you snap at Akaashi?”

“What?” He asks, annoyance spreads across his face along with a small blush. 

“Yeah, why did you snap at him _and_ me for working on our graphic novels? Is it because you think being a STEM major is actual work? You think all I do all day is doodle? Is that it?”

“Don't put words in my mouth, you of all people should know that I wouldn’t ever have that kind of complex.” Kuroo points at me, a vein throbs in his temple.

“What else am I supposed to think?! All night it felt like you thought whatever we were doing, wasn’t important enough like Bokuto’s psych paper or Kenma’s stupid little equations.”

“That’s not it,” he rubs his face with an unbelieving laugh.

“Then _tell_ me! Or are you actually pissed off that I finished the milk?” I counter. 

Kuroo glances at me, his eyes fiery. He takes in a sharp breath and throws his hands up, “There’s nothing! I’m just pissed about the milk.” 

I click my tongue, “Okay.” 

“Okay,” he repeats, nodding, his head. He leaves me alone again, I’m still clenching my stupid keys in my hands. 

I use the adrenaline from our stupid argument to finish my projects and turn in some of my Econ homework a few days earlier than expected. I can’t help but roll my eyes when I see Kuroo sitting in the kitchen pouring into his textbooks so late. My brain reminds me of his pettiness and tells me to not bother asking if he’s had any water. I ignore his questions on my way out of the house, his car keys in my hand. It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes from the gas station nearby to grab a half gallon of milk and return, Kuroo by that point had disappeared from the kitchen and living room most likely to be found in his room. Angrily, I slam the milk into the fridge and stuff some chocolate bars into the freezer for myself later on. 

“Where were you?” A disembodied voice from behind startles me, I turn to see Kuroo staring at me. 

“Relax, I was getting milk.” I roll my eyes and roll the plastic bag in my hands to be reused later on. 

“I told you that wasn’t necessary, _it’s late_.” His voice is agitated. 

“Yeah well, Kuroo when you yell at me for finishing the milk what do you expect me to do?” I passive aggressively retort. The amount of times I’ve rolled my eyes tonight are too many to count now. I turn to leave but he’s inadvertently blocking my way.

“What?” I ask, a little too harshly. 

“Now who’s acting childish?” He sarcastically retorts, crossing his arms. 

“You’ve been pissing me off all night, leave me alone,” I mutter. 

“How have I been pissing you off?” He genuinely asks, still agitated. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I laugh and set my hand on my hip, “Okay, I’m not gonna start this with you all over again.” I move to push past him, but he gently grabs hold on my arm and pushes me back in front of him. 

“ _What,_ Kuroo? Let me go, I don’t even want to be here right now.”

“Where are you going to go? Akaashi’s?” He asks harshly. 

“Why not?! Kenma, Akaashi and I have been pissing you off so much lately might as well, right?” I pull away from his touch. 

Two beats of silence pass, it’s written all over his face that he’s deep in thought before he opens his pretty mouth and asks me the stupidest question of all time. “Are you and Akaashi together?” 

“What?” I sputter a laugh, “Where is this coming from?”

“You’re not answering me,” he leans against the kitchen counter and waits for me to answer. 

“Not that it matters, but _no_ , we aren’t.” I roll my eyes again for the upteenth time. “Is that why you’ve been acting like a douche?”

“I haven’t been-,” he scoffs. “And no, I’m asking because you spend all this time together when you complain about not having enough time to get your schoolwork done-“

“And? So what? Let’s just assume that I’m dating Akaashi, you’re telling me that in that case I am no longer allowed to complain to my friends about not having time to do things? You’re implying that me dating someone is a waste of time?” Kuroo stares at me at a loss for words. “Screw you,” I spit out angrily. “Screw you, because you are always pushing for us to do our best and work hard, and here I am doing just that and you get pissed at me. It’s none of your business, Kuroo, whether or not Akaashi and I are dating. It’s insulting that you think that me hanging out with my male friends means something romantic must be there! It _hurts_ , to hear from one of my closest friends, that if I’m with a male friend I must not be working. So piss off!”

“I didn’t mean to imply any of that!” He trails behind me to my room, he stops me from slamming my door in his face. “What-, what’re you doing?” I glance behind my shoulder and he’s watching me dumbfounded as I haphazardly stuff my belongings into a bag. 

“I’m sleeping over their place for a few days, I’ve had enough of this crap.”

“What-?”

“Yeah, your fight with Kenma is stupid and it’s giving me anxiety. You breathing down my neck when I’m with Akaashi, you yelling at me over milk, I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now Kuroo, but deal with it. I’m not going to. Nor do I have to.”

“I’m sorry, Sabrina. I am, but it’s the middle of the night and there’s no reason to be doing this-“

“I don’t need a reason,” I bitterly laugh. “Just enjoy the next few days without me, you won’t have to babysit now.” His silence confirms my words more than anything. I throw my book bag over my shoulder and head for my door but Kuroo steps in my way again. 

“Move,” I growl. 

“No.” 

“Kuroo move,” Any shred of patience I have is long gone. 

“I won’t, I can’t have another one of my best friend’s of mine not talking to me please.” Harshly I look into his eyes and find them softened, the crack in his voice threatens to tear down the walls I’ve built up tonight. 

“Kuroo, I care about you, I do. But I’m not your punching bag. Stop acting like an ass,” I huff. We stand there in silence, I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes again. 

“Are you gonna be okay sleeping?” He asks softly, I lie and nod my head. _I don’t rely on you,_ I lie to myself. 

“Okay,” he steps out from my doorway and lets me pass. “Can I drive you?”

I silently nod, afraid that if I open my mouth I might tell him more than what I want to say.

Of course Bokuto and Akaashi are fine with me staying over for a few days. We ignore how Kuroo stiffens when Akaashi mentions how we can work on our manga idea even more, I pretend that I don’t notice Kuroo stepping closer to hug me goodnight. Kenma leaves with Kuroo. It doesn’t dawn on me until much later when I’m laying on the couch in the dark unable to sleep, why Kuroo has been acting this way. 

Heather is coming in less than a week. 

-(-)-


	13. Midterms

I love Bokuto and Akaashi, I do. But I couldn’t live with them, they’re driving me crazy. Akaashi insisting on only grinding coffee every morning when he could just let me grind the whole bag in one sitting, Bokuto not knowing how to quietly leave the apartment for his morning runs and workout. I haven’t slept well at all, and been mostly relying on texting Kenma to keep me entertained until late at night. It’s worse when he live-streams and I can’t talk to him, leaving me wanting to pick up my phone and call Kuroo until I remember we are giving each other space. 

Kenma fills me in on what’s happening back home. He and Kuroo have made up, they’re on talking terms again and are back to normal. Besides that though, Kuroo is a wreck apparently. Kenma begs for me to come home, saying that whatever it is that Kuroo said to me that we can fix. In all honesty, I’m miserable too. All I can do though is pretend that thinking about Kuroo doesn’t doesn’t hurt and focus on passing my next exams. With the lack of sleep, irritation and guilt at feeling annoyed, there’s too much clutter in my mind to fill it up more with thoughts of whether or not Kuroo is okay. I have to focus. I have to show that I’ve worked hard to pass this class and that I wasn’t wasting my time. 

The classroom is cold, and already filling in with students. Quickly, I take my seat and gently place all my necessary things onto the desk in preparation. I can’t stop bouncing my leg, anxious for it all to begin, anxious for it to be over with. I try not to think of the countless hours Kuroo and I spent together going over flash cards he made for me. I try not to associate questions with his voice, asking me the same as he cut fresh fruit for us to eat while we studied. The clock ticks on, our classroom is silent except for the scratching of pencils working out algorithms on scratch paper. I bite my lip, pretending to hear Kuroo cheering me on for when I know I got the answer right. I pretend I didn’t do that, since I’m supposed to not be thinking of him. 

Which is incredibly difficult when I get to the last question on my exam and I’m completely stumped. Somewhere in my brain, I know this. Maybe too deep. I can’t help but tap my pencil against my temple, lost in thought on how to even go about answering. Glancing at the clock, I have 8 minutes left to answer and turn in before it’s too late. I scratch down an answer I’m not 100% is even right and then turn in my packet. I take in a deep breath and allow myself a few minutes to get in the right headspace for my next and last exam for the week. Briefly, my anxious thoughts are interrupted with Kenma texting me asking what my last exam of the day is. 

Japanese. 

Unfortunately, this is the one that’s kept me up the latest besides worrying about Kuroo. Everyone has been trying hard to get me prepared, Shimi and her boyfriend have practiced my oral questions and answer portion, Kenma printed out worksheets to help practice writing, Bokuto and Akaashi fight over the meaning of kanji while I have an existential crisis. Kuroo, though, was the one who stayed up with me the latest to help me study and smooth over my anxieties. 

_“I’m just-, ugh!” I groaned into my hands. “My brain freezes in class when I have to stand up in front of everyone and answer our stupid_ sensei’s _questions and it’s like I don’t know any word in Japanese.” Kenma and Akaashi laughEd at me, to which Bokuto smacked them for._

_“That’s okay, we can work on that.” Kuroo smiled at me reassuringly, “How about when you’re asked a question you pretend it’s one of us? You’re comfortable talking to us in Japanese right?”_

_“Surprisingly your Japanese is a lot better than when we first met you,” Akaashi nodded._

_“Better than mine.”_

_“Better than Bokuto’s.” Bokuto and Kenma said at the same time._

_“Ah, it’s not as satisfying when you make fun of yourself,” Kenma sighed and rested his chin onto his hand._

_“Okay, that can work.” I clicked my pen thoughtfully, ignoring the others'._

_“Are you going to picture me?” Kuroo smirked at me playfully, his eyes playfully squinted at the blush rising on my cheeks._

_“Definitely not,” I retorted with a scoff._   
  


Yet here I am, picturing the small, older, American woman- who stepped foot into Japan 30 years ago and decided to teach the language afterwards- as Kuroo, who is asking me my travel plans for the Spring Festival. She gives me no indications of whether or not I passed the oral portion of the exam, instead she tells me to take my seat and stop the written part of the exam. As much as I want to resist, I can’t help but feel the anxiety creep back up when I look at all the Kanji and not understand a damn thing. The bounce in my leg returns, knowing I only have 55 minutes to get this done and then move onto the audio part of my exam. 

I studied so much, there’s no one that can take that away from me. Yet here I am, my mind empty looking at everyone around me who seems to be doing swimmingly well while I’m drowning. _Relax,_ I hear his voice in my head. _You know this, just take a moment to breathe._

I’ve been pushing Kuroo out of my head all day, not all successfully, but right now I do need him. I pretend he’s sitting next to me, his head close to my shoulder watching me work. I imagine the heat of his body next to mine, letting it melt away the tension in my muscles. It’s his voice that I hear so clearly in my mind, teasing me as I erase my answers for mistaking the kanji “know” and “harmony” again. I bite back a smile, remembering how his voice tickled against my skin when he coyly made fun of how my handwriting in Japanese was better than in English. 

Finally more relaxed, I’m not hesitating as much with each question on my exam packet. Pretending to hear Kuroo whispering behind me, teasing me and encouraging me helps me more than anything. Students around me get up to turn in their written exam, some just sleep. I hand in my packet, my _sensei_ hands me an audio cassette that must be 20 years old and a pair of headphones. As soon as I get to my desk I quickly sanitize the headphones, trying not to shiver at the thought of who wore them before me. In fact, it’s been chilly all day and I left my hoodies at the guys’ apartment and all the classrooms today have been adamant in having the AC on. Turning on the cassette, a slightly robotic English voice tells me the basics of what this portion will entail. First I’ll hear the sentence in Japanese, then I will have to interpret the sentence into English. 

This portion was actually the easiest, in record time I finished it and handed back the cassette to my professor. She’s the only one today who doesn’t allow her students to leave the room once we are done, so now I have to sit at my desk shivering from the cold until time runs out. I lean my head against the cool wood, and breathe out. All my exams are done. 

_I wonder how the guys did._

_I wonder if Kuroo did okay…_

I close my eyes. 

People shuffle around me when I wake up, we must’ve been dismissed. My classmates chatter about how they did, some wonder aloud if the exam was rigged because they didn’t understand a damn thing. 

“How about you?” A guy asks me, his friend stands beside him waiting for them to leave. 

“I think I did good,” I admit for the first time. 

Our classroom door is congested with students eager to leave. I don’t have work today, I don’t have any other exams or classes left. I don’t have anything to do now. All my projects have been turned in, and I’m wondering when all our exams will be graded when I see him waiting there for me. 

Kuroo stands at a distance to let my classmates leave, a little awkwardly. He hasn’t seen me yet, and Kenma was right, he looks awful. There’s dark circles under his eyes, which if anything brings out his hazel eyes even more, his hair is disheveled but _god_ I can’t help but wonder how soft it must be. When his eyes catch mine, I’m a little embarrassed to be caught staring at him. I step away from the flow of students, more come inside the class and some try to pass down the hallway to their other classes. With just a look, we silently agree to walk outside the building so we can talk. The last time we walked together like this, the tension was so thick it could choke you. Now, though, it’s just awkward. 

He takes no time to speak first. 

“How did it go?” He quietly asks, his hand runs through his hand and I can see why it looks so disheveled. 

“My class?” I dumbly ask. I’m half tempted to pinch myself, not fully believing he’s in front of me. 

“Of course,” he gives me a small smile and his eyebrows furrow. 

I take a deep breath and think back on the exams, all of them I did well on and all of them were somehow laced with memories of Kuroo helping me study. Looking at him now, seeing how tired he looks and knowing that as annoying as he can be, he cares a lot for us and he always goes above and beyond to help. He keeps putting people ahead of him, always neglecting to take care of himself. Now, here he is standing in front of me wondering how my exams went wanting to push back our argument about… what? Milk? 

“I think I did amazingly well,” I breathe out. “Thank you.” 

“Thank-uh, why are you thanking me?” He lets out a nervous laugh. 

“Because you helped me, Tetsū…” Ah, yikes. I can feel a heat rising up in my cheeks and his own tinge pink, and I shuffle my feet nervously, not wanting to look at him. 

“Sabrina,” his voice is low and warm but tinged with sadness, “I’m _really_ sorry, about everything. I took out my frustration and anxiety lately on you, and it was wrong. And it _sucks_ not having you home, like I love Kenma and we always have been able to live together, but I miss you. You laugh at my stupid jokes and you bring me drinks from work even if you hate making them for me, and you listen to me ramble on like right now,” Kuroo nervously laughs again. “I’m really sorry, I don’t want to keep on like this. I really miss talking to you. Can you forgive me? For being such an ass?” Kuroo’s eyes plead with mine, his hands nervously play with his fingers. 

Looking at him, I already know my answer. I knew my answer days ago, I was just too much of a coward to find Kuroo and talk to him. Afraid of being rejected, of having this awkward conversation and not knowing what to tell him and afraid of telling him how much I missed him too, all of them excuses. Now, he’s standing in front of me doing everything I was too afraid of. 

“I’ll think about it,” I say. Call me a little sadistic, but I can’t help but smile seeing Kuroo just accept this half hearted response without so much as a doubt that I’m probably messing with him. It’s only when he looks up at me and sees my wry smile when it dawns on him. 

“Oh,” he says at first. He rolls his eyes and a broad grin spreads across his face, “Oh thank god! I thought you were serious, you’re so mean.” Kuroo pulls me into a deep hug, laughing at himself for believing me. “You’re ice cold-, where’s… hey where’s your jacket?” He pulls back from me and gives me a look. 

“What, are you my mom?” I can’t help but roll my eyes at him, trying not to warm my arms in front of him. 

“Oh okay, so I supposed you don’t want the extra hoodie I have in my backpack?” He grins at my scowl, and digs for said sweater. “Here,” Kuroo hands me his black hoodie and smiles at me with it on. 

“You look warm,” he laughs. 

“You should’ve apologized before my classes,” I hum and close my eyes to taking in how comfy it is. “It was like being in the Arctic.” 

“Funny,” Kuroo smiles at me again. His eyes soften, and he steps forward to hug me once last time. “Congrats on acing your exams, Sabi.” 

“And you?” I mumble into the crook of his neck, trying to balance on my toes. “How did your classes go?”

“Oh I aced them,” Kuroo’s quick response makes me laugh, and it’s not too long before I realized we haven’t let each other go. Not that I want to let him go, at least I don’t want to be the first one. So we don’t. We stay there together, soaking up each other to make up for lost time. We whisper to catch up on what’s been going on. I tell him how I feel bad for thinking about hitting Bokuto, but how can’t I feel that way when he wakes me up an hour after I finally fall asleep? His laugh booms against me, and he admits that it’s a little boring falling asleep without anyone next to him and Kenma flat out refuses to cuddle with him. 

Somehow, we both know we have to let go. It’s a good thing too because I’m so close to telling him how I feel about him and I can’t do that to him when Heather is coming soon. Not knowing if they’re going to be back together officially or not… Because my brain is cruel, I can’t help but imagine them together. Her wearing his hoodie, his arm around hers, them holding each other. Agh, I should stop thinking of hypotheticals and focus but I can’t help but think of them together… 

Kuroo catches my face, and I hate how well he’s able to see the sadness creeping in my eyes. I’m not sure what he thinks, but he wraps an arm around my shoulder and sighs content.

“I really missed you,” he repeats. 

“Such a sap,” I quote him. His laugh rings in my ears like chimes in the wind, we walk back home. 

“Ah I still have my stuff at the guys’ place,” I say I’m our way home. 

“Eh, we can get Bokuto to drop it all off.” 

-(-)-


	14. It’s a Date

The night before I leave to visit family so happens to be the night before Heather comes over. I try my best not to think of her, I haven’t even ever seen pictures of her which is more agonizing. Kuroo once told me once it was because she didn’t want to be on social media. I didn’t tell him that I found that highly suspicious, however Kenma took it upon himself to point it out for him; so I guess there’s that. So now my imagination runs wild. She’s probably taller than me, a perfect height for Kuroo to easily embrace. Maybe she has long black hair, shiny and straight without frizz. Her skin is flawless, she’s athletic, probably wicked smart to be able to ever capture Kuroo’s attention. Perfect in every way. 

I haven’t told Kuroo about my nightmares lately, they’re too embarrassing. How else can I admit to him that I feel her eyes piercing through my skin? Or that I had a nightmare, just last night, of me trying to survive a tsunami while also looking for him and Kenma; only to find Kuroo in the arms of Heather. I can’t tell him that I felt the water rising from my ankles, to my shin, to my thighs and still I couldn’t move because her eyes locked on mine. I woke up today in a gasp, still feeling her cold eyes watching me. 

My hands stop folding my clothes, I clench my eyes shut hoping that I can think of anything else but of her holding him close at night instead of me. It’s my own fault, for allowing myself to feel this way towards Kuroo. It’s my fault for not realizing that a manipulative wench like her would let him go so easily, it’s almost as if she knew I was here waiting for him to heal so that she can swoop back into the picture and tear him away from me. It’s my fault for never telling him how I feel. 

  
“Hey so I was thinking-, oh…” Kenma’s voice interrupts my whirlwind of thoughts. “Are, are you okay?” I swipe my head to the right so he can’t see the tears threatening to fall. Tonight is my last night, and I know when I come back…. I shake my head at my thoughts, not wanting to picture any further the thought of Kuroo giving her his brightest smile, of him kissing her with the very lips that I have such a hard time tearing my eyes away from. Kenma mistakes me shaking my head, though, as a response to his question, and quietly he shuts the door behind me.

I wanted to tell Kenma everything. How it hurt my first night back, when the three of us sat in the living room laughing until late into the night while we caught up on how our exams went and the team gossip. It hurt, to feel so happy, knowing that soon Heather will be here to take my place seamlessly. Why wouldn’t she? She has more in common with Kuroo, she’s known him longer. Better. They were in a relationship, she knows what it’s like to kiss him, hold him, caress his cheek and look him in his eyes with an adoration only a lover can have. It hurts to know that Kuroo doesn’t see how I look at him. It hurts to think that he believed my heart was longing for someone else, when my pulse quickens by just standing next to him. 

_Kuroo, my heart is yours. It’s your fault that you rewired every being in me down to its molecules, to long for you. Kuroo, whenever I’m around you I open my mouth and all that comes out are the wrong words and somehow it’s all worth it when I hear you laughing. Kuroo, you’re more than just a friend to me._

I have to move on. But I can’t. I can’t. If the world were to end, it’d be his eyes that I want to look into and understand that no matter what everything will be okay. When I breathe, I feel the pain of unrequited love pushing deeper into my organs. It sinks its teeth into my chest, leaking into my lungs, teasing me as it barely allows me to breathe it all out. But when I let go, the pain always settles back. Just like waves pushing a glass bottle onto the shore in hopes that a passerby will humiliatingly try to run after it, laughing because chasing it is like trying to catch the fleeting hope of him loving me back. 

What’s humiliating, is knowing this, knowing how much pain I’m putting myself through and knowing that his friendship is worth it. _How’s that for therapy?_

“What’s going on, you’re crying…” Kenma gently wipes away a stray tear that’s fallen down my cheek and another that’s dripping down the curve of my jaw. 

“I don’t mean to,” I force myself to laugh. “I’m fine, I’m just having… thoughts.. I guess.” I jerk my head away from him, blinking back tears that I wish would stop burning. With my hands I cover my eyes so that I can only see the floor and not Kenma’s eyes watching me steadily.   
  


He doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes me. When I first met Kenma, this used to unnerve me. He and Kuroo are both very intuitive and observant people, but Kenma is even more so. It’s a skill he uses for volleyball mostly, once he even apologized to me when he saw my eyes widen at his observations of the opposing team. 

“ _Why are you apologizing?” I asked him, hating that the gym lights were starting to give me a migraine._

_“Eh, it freaks people out so I’m sorry if it freaks you out too,” Kenma avoided my eyes and massaged his neck anxiously._

_“Are you kidding me? You’re like a modern day Sherlock Holmes!” I laughed, slapping his shoulder appreciatively. His eyes widened at my response, but after mulling over my response he smiled back at me, softly._

Now, though, there’s no hiding from his scrutiny. I can’t lie to Kenma, not successfully. With a deep sigh, I press the palms of my hand into my eyes and hope it makes me stop crying. It works for a second, I can get back to packing and folding my clothes, but within seconds I feel the burn of tears all over again. They water more and more, no matter how much I curse myself to stop. Even now, I can’t fold my clothes because my eyes are determined to keep watering. Flashes of who I imagine Heather to be, her and Kuroo on dates. Them talking late into the night, hushed whispers and giggling to haunt me into the early morning. Her voice calling out his name. Without a word, Kenma takes the shirt I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to fold from my hands and finishes it for me. 

“Thank you,” I laugh, my voice thick with tears. He just nods, letting me sit back and try to collect myself while he folds my clothes into my luggage. 

“Is it about your family?” He asks, softly. I glance at Kenma, wondering if I should take his bait or tell him the truth. He keeps folding though, not really making eye contact with me, from the next room over Kuroo is on the phone with one of his professors that he works for. 

“Yes and no,” I reply carefully. “It’s a little mentally exhausting being with my family, but I haven’t seen them in a while. It’s just going to be hellish with them wondering why I live with two boys,” I smile. 

Kenma laughs, “I mean you _did_ say you moved in with two foreigners who stole you away from the dorms right?”

“I didn’t quite phrase it like _that_ ,” I snort. “They’re already afraid I’m going to be trafficked.” Kenma laughs with me.

  
I think back to the last time he found me like this, in the midst of a panic attack and thoughts that swirled around my head choking the air out of my lungs. It’s muggy, whenever these things happen, but it was back around the time the library incident had happened. By then, everyone close to me knew what had happened and did their best to support me when we heard false rumors spreading. I was doing good. No longer did I flinch looking at the library doors. Akaashi and I walked down the hallways together, no longer was I afraid of being alone. 

The letter for the disciplinary hearing came in the mail, though. I had to testify against him. I had to face Him again. Kuroo saw the letter first, he was the one who placed it on my bed unopened. I cursed myself for not getting home earlier, for getting boba tea with Bokuto and Akaashi instead of going straight home. In all honesty, and as ridiculous as it may sound, my friends helping me so much also made me feel _guilty_. In my perfect scenario, I wouldn’t have told Kuroo or anyone else about the letter and would’ve grit my teeth to do it all on my own, solely because I don’t want to be a burden. Kuroo knows this about me, he’s constantly reassuring me that I’m anything but a burden. He sat beside me as I read the details of the letter to him, typing in the hearing date and time into his calendar as I read them aloud. We came to an agreement that I wouldn’t have to do this alone, he could be there for me as long as he didn’t tell anyone else about it until it all ended. Kuroo will find me after classes, he will walk me to the hearing and sit outside the doors in quiet support for me. 

  
Unfortunately, it was a day where everything went to hell. Kuroo wouldn’t be able to get out of TA work, his professor had dumped loads of work on him and refused to compromise. My other friends, not knowing that this was an important day, had taken off for an early weekend. Bokuto, Akaashi and Kenma weren’t answering their phones. 

Being in that room with Him again, even the thought of it made me feel faint. Memories of his tongue dried my throat, making it harder for me to recount the events for the official record. A migraine set behind my eyes, pulsating pain making it harder for me to concentrate on pulling myself together. 

His eyes, his blue and cold eyes, watching my lips when I recounted the attack. A woman in a room full of men, retelling a humiliating account where they believe the moral of the story is that I should’ve been smarter. 

Somehow though, Marcus was expelled immediately. 

I walked home, alone. I should’ve felt ecstatic; yet no matter how many times I had tried typing and retyping a text to Kuroo about the good news, I felt anything but. Instead, I was scared. Scared that Marcus was following behind me; no matter how many times I looked over my shoulder, though, no one was there. I had managed to bite down my anxiety for an hour and a half; but when I finally saw our home, the floodgates opened. My hands shook so hard, I couldn’t open the door. I remember the cool waves of panic flooding over me, the more desperate I got to open the door the worse it felt. By the time I managed to fling myself inside, I remember breaking down completely. 

My throat burned from the wailing, the screaming. I had waited for weeks to hear if he was going to be expelled or not, and finally I could _breathe_. 

_So why was I crying?_

By the time Kenma came home, I had already huddled underneath my blankets quietly weeping, hating myself for not celebrating. I’m not sure how he found me considering that I’ve spent years perfecting the “ _stay-quiet-when-you’re-sobbing-or-else-someone-might-hear-you-and-ask-why”_ move. To this day I’m still embarrassed to ask. Whatever the case, I don’t remember much of what Kenma said to me, but I do remember him asking if I needed a hug. It was just startling enough of a question to snap my attention to him, and genuine enough for me to hesitantly nod my head yes.

I remember the feeling of his hands holding me tightly against his chest, the feeling of his heartbeat. I remember his hair tickling my skin, him not minding that his shirt was soaking up my tears. It was odd, because even though I know we are good friends, we never showed affection outwardly like this. If anything we both push Kuroo and Bokuto off of us whenever they try to playfully hug us. Yet here he was, holding me. 

Albeit a little awkwardly. 

Kuroo came home, flushed and out of breath probably because I never did get around to texting him. When he found us, he never did let it show that the image of us hugging each other was probably startling. I remember the rushed words of gratitude he spoke to Kenma for not leaving me alone, how he took Kenma’s place. Vaguely I remember Kenma touching my shoulder before closing the door behind him. 

I never did tell him what made me so upset, although I’m sure Kuroo must’ve. 

  
  


“Is that all then? You’re worried about your family and the harem we formed?” Kenma gently asks, pulling me out of deep thought. He motions for me to give him a pair of jeans out of his, I hand him the pants and bite my lip. When I glance towards the wall I share with Kuroo, I can tell Kenma already knows. 

“I’m just an idiot, you know?” I smile, my eyes water again but this time there’s no more pride left in me to wipe them away.

“I really, _really like him.”_ My voice is barely above an unsteady whisper. “Like to the point where it eats me up at night like moths. And it kills me to know that when Heather comes back, I will be torturing myself wondering what they’re doing together. At the same time, I don’t want to be _here_ watching them…” I clench my fists so they can stop shaking, I close my eyes so I don’t see Kenma watching me again. 

“I really like him, and I should’ve told him when I had the chance. But I didn’t want to push him. I don’t want to confuse him, I want him to have time for his heart to heal. But what if she doesn’t let him? I can’t do anything but stand by and be on his side, I can’t tell him not to be with her-. If-, if-, if he were to ever find out my feelings for him, he’d think back to these moments…” I suck in my stuttering breath, “...he’d think I’d be the worst person ever, to deny him a chance at love. That I’m selfish.” 

When I finally do gather the courage to look him in the eyes, my breath hitches. They’re bloodshot, the corner of his eyes dampened. I’ve never seen him like this, I can’t even think when I’ve seen him cry at all before. Here he is now though, with tears collecting in his eyelashes like tree branches catching twinkling stars in the night. Again, here he is snapping me out of my swirling thoughts. I resist the urge to reach out to wipe his tears away. 

“You’re not selfish, Sabrina.” Kenma looks up at the ceiling and blinks back those stars, “It’s-it's sad that you’re going through this alone. It’s-, you’re not alone-,” whatever his next words are he swallows them and shakes his head instead. 

“You knew though,” I finally thumb away a stray tear from the corner of his eye, making him roll his eyes at me while the tips of his ears brighten red. “About my feelings for him?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. “You’re as obvious as ever.” 

“Ouch,” I wince, “Give me _some_ credit.” I bite my lip, though. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t know though… right?”

Kenma shakes his head, “He’s as dense as you are.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” 

“It means what it means,” he waves me off before grabbing another piece of clothing to fold. 

“Answer me this,” he neatly tucks in another pair of jeans into my luggage. “Are you friends with me to be closer to Tetsū?”

“No!” I say adamantly, “Why would you even question that?” 

He simply holds up a finger, he has a point and he wants me to be patient. “Did you move in with us because you hoped you would make Tetsū like you like that?”

I scoff, “No.”

“Are you different around Tetsū than you are with me or the others? Do you purposely try to be something you’re not in hope he starts to like that version of you?”

“No! What’s your point, Kenma?” I ask impatiently. 

“My point is that you’re friends with Kuroo because he wants to be friends with you,” he rolls his eyes. “You are funny, you are caring, you call us out on our crap and you support us. You have all of these amazing qualities and it _sucks_ to hear you think so low of yourself. Believe it or not, like, a few years ago is when I _barely_ started having other friends other than Kuroo. Even now, I have a select few that I genuinely consider to be my close friends, and you’re on my list. Your friendship to me, isn’t superficial. Your friendship to Tetsū isn’t superficial, he _cares for you._ You don’t make him walk you home, you don’t make him stay with you in the gyms when for whatever godforsaken reason you still want to play. You don’t make him do anything! He does it because you guys are close, _good_ _friends_.” 

Kenma sighs deeply, not used to having to raise his voice even if it’s slightly. “And you know what?” His eyes are intense when they stare into mine again, “Kuroo with you, and Kuroo with Heather are two different people.” 

“What-, what do you mean?” I wipe the corner of my eyes to rid the tears that sprung from Kenma’s kind and genuine words. 

“You’ll see it,” is all Kenma says. “Maybe not this time, but you’ll see how he is when he’s with you and us and how he is with her. Save your heartache until you see how much that boy hurts around her.” It does, my heart aches thinking of how much he chased after her, running after the wind. 

“Do you think I should tell him?” I quietly ask. Kenma’s hands freeze. When I look at him he’s staring hard at the shirt he was folding, something flashes across his face too fast for me to place what he’s thinking. 

“I don’t…I can’t...answer that for you.” Kenma moves stiffly to fold my shirt again, placing it carefully with the rest of my clothing. 

“Why? Because he doesn’t feel the same way? That’s something I already know,” I laugh, ignoring the ache in my chest and pretending it doesn’t sound hollow. 

Kenma hums unconvinced, “No I mean I really don’t know what to tell you.” We sit in silence for a while, listening to Kuroo’s muffled voice from the other side of the wall. “I can’t make those decisions for you, you know.” 

“I know,” I sigh. “I’m sorry for throwing all of this on you. I know it makes me uncomfortable being this _open_ , so I can’t imagine how you feel.” I chuckle and shake my head. 

“It’s fine,” He reassures, “You’re my friend.” I nod. 

We go back to packing. A thick blanket of silence weighs on top of us. _Maybe I shouldn’t have told him anything_ … Whenever I glance at Kenma, it’s almost as if he’s purposely avoiding my eyes. I’m nowhere nearly as good at reading people like he and Kuroo are, but I’d like to give myself some credit to know when something’s off. Kenma’s face is stoic, guarded. _Yeah I shouldn’t have told him…_

“What were you like in high school?” I ask Kenma, referring back to him saying he didn’t have a lot of friends until that time in his life. _Also maybe this will lighten the awkward mood I set myself in_ , I think. 

“Ugh,” he groans and rubs his face before looking at me again with his pale eyes. “Very different.”

“I don’t believe that,” I laugh. “Very different to me would be you as an extrovert, maybe even a _player_.” I raise my eyebrow suggestively, playfully. 

He flushes, “Okay obviously I meant that I was a lot quieter than I am now. And slightly shorter, a lot more scrawny than I am now-, uh what? What’s that look for?” Kenma squints his eyes, smiling at me lazily. 

“You play _college_ volleyball, you’re not as scrawny you make yourself out to be,” I roll my eyes. 

“Okay fine but compared to, like, Bokuto I’m a twig. Or Kuroo, even. Let’s see, um, I had a harder time making friends than I do now. Actually that’s a lie, it’s about the same. You’re probably the only new friend I made this year.” Kenma leans back, resting his weight on his palms, “My hair was blonde for a while- _stop with the faces, I was_ fifteen _for god’s sake._ ” 

Kenma rolls his eyes at my laughing, he puffs out his cheeks and blows away stray pieces of his hand that've fallen over his eyes. “Actually one of my friends said I looked like a horror movie character because of how black my hair is, which I’m not going to lie, hurt a little so I bleached my hair.”

“Next time say ‘thank you’,” I say flippantly. “That should’ve been taken as a compliment, instead.” 

Kenma laughs, “I don’t know why I ever gave a crap about what people thought of me then, but whatever, he’s still a good friend of mine. We play online together, too.” 

“So how did you get into professionally gaming?” I take a break from packing too, and lean against my bed with my legs almost touching his outstretched ones. 

“That’s how I know you haven’t seen my videos,” Kenma playfully accuses me, a sly grin plastered over his face. 

“I am double majoring! I don’t have a lot of time to spend on YouTube, sorry!” I nudge his knee apologetically. 

“It’s fine,” he waves me off. “I wouldn’t let you donate on my Twitch, anyway.”

“What, because I’m broke?” I sputter. 

“Uh, precisely. I need you to pay rent,” he laughs at my attempt to kick him. 

“Fine, okay, have you ever explained your company then on your videos? Can I ask about that?” I cross my arms. 

“Ah, it’s a whole thing.” He shrugs, “It sounds bad but I really made it so I can sponsor my friend and their volleyball training.”

“Aw that’s sweet,” I smile. 

“Yeah I told him that if he ever becomes boring I’ll stop,” he grins at the memory. 

“Ah, less sweet.” I laugh with him. 

The more we talk, the more I feel the weight of the chest lightening. Kenma stops helping me pack now that he sees I feel better than earlier. Soon, everything I need for the next 6 and a half day’s are packed. Kenma looks at his watch and then stands up. I half expect Kenma to not come back to my room when he leaves. Instead he comes back with his Switch, and asks if it’s alright if he can record a video in my room. 

All I can do is laugh and say I don’t care, not promising to keep quiet. He rolls his eyes, and goes to hang a small “Do Not Disturb” sign on my door, a sign I’ve seen countless times on his own bedroom door. 

I try not to watch him settle onto my bed with his switch in hand, carefully setting up a microphone I didn’t notice earlier. Somehow this feels more intimate, watching him settle into his gamer persona, hearing him do a couple of voice exercises before warning me that he’s going to start. 

“And you’re okay with me being here?” I ask him one last time. 

“Yes, it’s our last night together and I need to soak up your Sabrina energy before being forced to interact with Heather,” he replies curtly. “ _Hey I’m back, last time I promised to show you guys my new island…_ ”

It’s a little mesmerizing to see him working, not that he’s any different than normal. I’m trying to put my finger on what’s so captivating about this when I hear my door click open. Quickly I turn my head and crawl slightly around the corner towards my door, making eye contact with Kuroo at my doorway. He raises an eyebrow, more confused as to why I’m on the floor than why Kenma is in my room. I hold up a finger to my lips, but he just rolls his eyes and nods while holding up the sign Kenma put on my door. _Recording: leave me alone_. 

I quietly laugh, Kuroo scooches down onto the floor next to me and we sit at our shared wall watching Kenma work. 

“How did this happen?” He whispers into my ear. 

I shrug, knowing that if I whisper he’d just chastise me for being too loud. Kuroo nods, and pulls out his phone. His lockscreen with the three of us pulls at my heart, a little too hard when my masochistic mind wonders if he will change it for Heather. 

**tets-Ugh:**

**???**

**tets-Ugh:**

**kenma rarsly works outside his room**

**tets-Ugh:**

**hey why is my name that???????????????!!**

I glance at Kuroo peeking down at my phone to watch me reply. 

**me:**

**I honestly didn’t think he was gonna record a video tbh because at first all I saw was his switch and thought he was gonna ask if we could play together but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

**me:**

**believe it or not but autocorrect hayes your name**

**me:**

**hates*****

**tets-Ugh:**

**He probably got nervous about playing with you and changed his mind last second**

**me:**

**what’s there to be nervous abojt he’s seen me pass out from running two miles before**

**me:**

**ALSO we play video games all the time so that makes no sense**

**tets-Ugh:**

**ugh that day was so hot, I’m surprised you didn’t die**

**tets-Ugh:**

**are you excited to be with your family again?**

I give Kuroo a look, and he just grins as I gently nudge his arm with my elbow. 

**the annoying roommate:**

**thats ok you can just spam my phone when you reach your limit**

**the annoying roommate:**

**ok change my name back that just hurts :(**

**me:**

**no**

**me:**

**what about Heather?**

Kuroo looks up at me and tilts his head, “What about her?”

**me:**

**well she’s here to see you I don’t wanna like interrupt that with me complaining about my family lol**

**me:**

**especially since you guys are coming back from a relationship break thing. you will probably be busy talking things over with her**

I pick at the hem of my shirt watching Kuroo read my text, his face blank. He types out a message and then deletes it again, it’s only when I try to read what he’s typing when he smiles and tries to hide his phone from me. 

“Don’t be a child,” I whisper and he giggles softly in response. I climb on top of him now that he’s purposely stretching out his arm out of my reach. With ease he slides me off his back, keeping his arm around my waist while he types with one hand. I can’t help but glare when he angles his screen away from me. 

**the annoying roommate:**

**I think she’s using me as an excuse to visit the States lol**

**the annoying roommate:**

**also idk I had a long talk with kenma before you came home and idk what to think about her and I. there’s a ton of stuff I had to get off my chest with him and he told me some stuff and I’m lowkey just a little confused haha..  
  
**

**the annoying roommate:**

**not about Heather tho... I think my main thing is to just talk it out and confront her about how she's made me feel. part of me wants to tell her to piss off but I honestly can’t see myself being that way towards her? Idk**

**the annoying roommate:**

**but yeah I’ll let you know what happens with her since you’re ABANDONING US**

**the annoying roommate:**

**also idc who’s around or who’s visiting you’re supposed to rant to me or else you might explode**

**the annoying roommate:**

**believe me I’ve seen you explode it’s ~scary~**

**the annoying roommate:**

**also I might explode if you don’t talk to me so**

A soft chuckle slips from my lips, I quickly glance at Kenma who doesn’t seem to have noticed. Or care. 

“Is my character still on your island?” Kuroo asks suddenly, loudly. My eyes widen when I look over at Kenma who seems unbothered. 

“No I restarted, it got annoying when every islander kept asking about ‘The Cool One’,” Kenma responds sarcastically, his fingers miming the quotes. Next to me, Kuroo tuts and puffs his cheeks. 

With a side glance, he smiles and explains it to me, “So the way Akaashi edits his videos, he will put, like, captions in comic sans and it’s just hilarious. Kenma’s fans know me by now, so they really like to see us interact.” 

A thought I’ve been saving for a while pops up again and I smile deviously, “Kenma if I called you Kenny, what would you say?”

“I’d say we aren’t friends anymore,” Kenma shoots me a warning look. 

“Ouch!” Kuroo laughs softly next to me. I pretend not to be struck by how close his face is next to mine as he watches me text Kenma a frowny face. I know that if I were to move a half inch to the left to even look at him our lips would probably touch and… 

I laugh nervously, hoping the thought doesn’t come across my face revealing myself, and subtly try to inch away from him. 

“I guess I have to explain who that is,” Kenma sighs, talking for the recording, “That’s my other roommate.”

“You should livestream you guys playing together,” Kuroo teases with a grin. 

Kenma glances at us and rolls his eyes, “No.”

“Why not?!” I cross my arms. 

“Because you suck more than Kuroo,” Kenma laughs at me. Kuroo joins in snickering, not even bothering to debate that thought.

“Get out of my room,” I fling one of my scrunchies at him, making him laugh more. 

“Let the record show that Sabrina threw her scrunchie at Kenma,” Kuroo narrates. Kenma shoots me a smile as he leaves my room, Tetsū smacks Kenma’s passing arm to chastise him but that just provokes another laugh. “Akaashi: here is maybe where you can insert a doodle reenactment of this-“

  
We are left alone in my room now, still sitting at our shared wall looking anywhere but at the other person. Our hips are touching, and is it just me that can feel the ends of my nerves on fire? I know he’s glancing at me, but I can’t find it in myself to look back at him. Instead I awkwardly play with my fingers, massaging them like I normally do after a long time drawing. Kuroo clears his throat, but I don’t look over at him. He tries again to subtly get my attention, instead I smile shyly knowing that I want him to keep going. 

“Sabrina,” he whispers leaning close enough that his nose brushes against my ear. “Stop being a child.”

“Oh I’m being a child?” I quietly laugh, pulling back to face him so I don’t accidentally make my embarrassing thoughts into an awkward reality. Something shifts in his eyes, as if he remembered why he came to my room in the first place. 

The apples of his cheeks pinken softly, “Kenma told me you were upset earlier?” I open my mouth and then shut it. 

“When?” I ask, not being able to deny the truth. 

“I guess right before he came here to record,” his eyes search my face, although I’m not sure what he’s looking for. When our eyes meet, we quickly look away. 

“I’m-, uh,” he leans his head against the wall and looks up. “You’re-, ha, well you’re important to me. And I know that you’re worried about Heather...”

_Oh no…_

“It means a lot that you’re worried about me,” he nudges me with his elbow so I can look up at him, again he gives me a soft smile that never fails to make me melt. 

“What did Kenma say to you?” I try to keep my voice even. 

“Well not much,” he laughs, “But uh… yeah, it’s really nice to know that you’re stressed about me. Well, not _stressed_ , I don’t want you to be stressed. I meant- I meant, uh, I like knowing that you are thinking of me, _well not like that-“_ I watch him amused as he continues to stammer over his words, my own bundle of nerves tighten in my stomach. 

“I just want you to be happy,” I say with a smile. 

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush reaching to the tips of his ears. “You never told me how you met Heather.” _Stop, Sabrina. You can move on to a different topic now._

Kuroo does a once over of my face and sighs, “So we’ve known Heather for a while. We met in middle school, didn’t really talk to her much until she emailed me, like, right before I came here for school. We talked every once in a while, old schoolmates in different continents asking about the weather. Then last year I went back home to visit my grandma, because she had gotten sick. Heather wanted to see me too, since I was back. And then we talked a lot, I really liked her. She seemed cool, although she never really laughed at my jokes.” He laughs, albeit a little sadly. 

“Anyway, I had to balance time with my grandma and then also Heather because she wanted to go on dates with me. I came back here, she didn’t.” He looked down at his hands now, deep in thought. “I guess I was always struggling to keep up with her and she just expected me to be someone I’m just not.”   
  


Tetsū looks forward now, his eyes looking over my handmade posters of animes and movies I loved. Seconds turn into long minutes where neither of us are talking. Nervously, I wring my fingers together wondering if I should say something or let him continue talking. Halfway into deciding, Kuroo turns to me again and catches me looking at him. Quickly I avert my eyes and look back down to my tinkering fingers. Heat rushes over my face, I don’t know if I’m blushing or not but if I am, Kuroo doesn’t let on that he’s caught me staring. 

“When Kenma told me what she did to him in middle school,” He speaks up, “I just couldn’t help but think of all the red flags I ignored. How unhappy I was after talking to her, how exhausted I felt trying to keep up with her. I need you to know that her coming here doesn’t mean we are getting back together, she’s not even staying _here_. ” 

“What do you mean?” Our eyes meet again, and I curse myself for not getting softer lighting in my room or else I’d be able to see just how golden his eyes can be. _Shut up, Sabrina. Stop thinking about his eyes and pay attention._

“She’s staying in a hotel somewhere- wait. Did you-, did you think she was staying _here_?” Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Well-, yeah!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air. “We haven’t exactly talked about any of this.” 

“Yeah that’s my fault I guess,” Kuroo shyly grins at me again. “Where did you think we were going to put her? We only have three bedrooms. The couch?” When I stay quiet, he realizes. Of course, I thought they’d be together in the same room. Of course, I thought they’d sleep next to each other like we do. 

“I wouldn’t just give her your room, Sabrina,” he scoffs, but truly I understand now that Kuroo is a complete idiot. 

“You’re so stupid!” I smack his shoulder, “I didn’t think you’d give her my room. I thought-, I,-, well, I thought you’d _both_ -...”

“Oh…” 

Now I really can’t look at him. I sit stiffly next to him, wish I’d be anywhere but in the moment with him. Next to me, his shoulders start to shake and then soon his whole body. Horrified, I look over and he is guffawing. If he weren’t so cute, I’d be more irritated. This is what makes Kuroo special, his laugh starts from the belly and nothing can stop it from reaching the tips of his fingers to the ends of his nerves. He’s radiant when he laughs. Unfortunately, he’s laughing _at_ me. 

“Okay,” I roll my eyes and start to stand. 

“I’m-, I’m sorry!” He giggles, wiping stray tears from the corner of his eyes. “But seriously, you think I’d want to be in the same bed as my weirdo ex?”

“You sleep in bed as your weirdo roommate!” Despite my annoyed tone, a grin slips across my face and relief pulls off the weight on my shoulders. 

“That’s different,” Tetsū is still softly laughing but he gets up with me. “Are you done packing?” I nod. “Good. Because your room is too bright, I don’t know how you do it.” Before I can protest, he takes my hand and leads me next door to his room.   
  


“Oh,” I sigh dumbfounded. “Your room is…”

“Better? Awesome? Cool?” Kuroo offers with a grin. 

“Pretty,” I breathe out. I glance at him, his mouth is agape and the tips of his ears redden. 

“There’s not another adjective you can use?” Kuroo puffs his cheeks and sits on the edge of his bed. 

“Well it’s different than the last time I saw it,” I stand in the middle of his room and turn slowly. He has a star projector hidden somewhere, because on his ceiling there’s constellations scattering across. On his work desk, there’s a lamp that casts a soft yellow light that lazily grazes across the room, but the contrast of a soft orangey yellow and the luminescent blue on his ceiling creates a breathtaking atmosphere. He’s decorated his walls with posters of the periodic table, chemistry puns, and a map of the sky. I step closer to a frame he’s hung, inside is a collage of pages from antique textbooks and science fiction novels I haven’t read yet. 

“When did you do all of this?” I laugh, awestruck still. 

“And _why_ do we hang out in my room? Oh! Let’s trade rooms!” I clap my hands together and turn to Kuroo suddenly, that bundle of nerves in my belly tightens again when his eyes are already trained on me. A small smile plays on his lips before he looks away from me to the rest of his room, he massages the back of his neck and sighs. 

“I did this a few weeks ago, but you’ve been working on your projects and I’ve been studying and we just haven’t been in sync I guess.” Above us, the projector switches to another part of the sky that slowly rotates. “No we can’t change rooms. Your room isn’t bad, you just need different lighting. Besides, your bed is better than mine.”

“Your room is inspiring,” I gaze up at his ceiling and wonder what constellations are projected. “Did you make that, by the way?” He hums questioningly and follows my eyes to his homemade collage poster. 

“Oh, yeah. I had found some old books with pages missing at a second hand store… and yeah…” Kuroo trails off, slightly awkward under my attention. 

“It’s so cool! Can you make one for me?” 

He blinks at my excitement and smiles at me again, “Sure. But you’re an artist, you know, can’t you just make one?”

“I’m so _lazy_ ,” I flop down onto his bed next to him, my eyes still gazing at the twinkling stars. 

“Your posters are cooler,” he lays down next to me, our bent knees knock together. 

“Let’s do an art trade,” We glance at each other at the same time and I grin, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll whip it up for you.”

“Really?” He asks. 

“Yeah! It’ll give me something to do while I’m with my family, and you can work on my poster while Heather is here so you have an excuse to get away from her.”

Kuroo laughs and rolls his eyes at me. 

“I can’t abandon Kenma, I think that would constitute the end of our friendship if I did that.” Together, we giggle at the thought of Kenma taking Heather sightseeing. We lay on his watching his projector flick through the sequence of the constellations that dot our skies. Kuroo leaves me alone for just a moment, and before I can ask him what he’s doing, a dark blue blankets over us. He’s turned off his desk lamp, leaving just the night sky to illuminate his room. Tetsū nudges me and points out the different constellations, becoming my very own celestial tour guide. He tells me the names, the stars involved, the folklore and mythology even. I’m grateful for just the stars to twinkle over our faces, because anything harsher and brighter would reveal the certain blush on my cheeks at the sound of Kuroo being so animated. 

“We should go to the planetarium one day!” “How’s your grandma now?”  
We both talk over ourselves, and we both fall silent. 

“Oh… you first,” I nudge him with my elbow. 

“No, uh, it’s okay.” Kuroo lets out a small chuckle, “You first.”

“Is your grandma feeling better?” I ask. 

“She’s still sick, but it’s just her age. I call her each week to check up on her, I’m sure you’ve heard me before .” I nod, remembering back to how he transforms to someone else when he’s talking to her. His face is softer, his voice lighter, the small smile on his face when he hears her voice. “Thank you for asking.”

“Of course,” I smile. “I didn’t know she had gotten sick, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah I don’t know why I haven’t told you, I’ve managed to give away all my secrets.” He gives me a sly smile and looks back up at his ceiling. 

“Oh please, you’re such a closed book.” I huff and look up again, finding Cygnus, thanks to Tetsū. “We _should_ go to the planetarium, it’s on campus somewhere right? Oh! Do they allow food? Maybe we can bring little desserts or something…” The projector flicks to another part of the sky, but Kuroo’s silence pulls my attention back to him. 

He’s staring at me, something in his eyes feels familiar but I’m not sure what it is because before I can identify what he’s thinking, he smiles and my mind goes blank. 

“It’s a date then.”

-(-)-

For the next five minutes I stare blankly at Kuroo while he stammered about how he didn’t mean a _date date._

“I meant like a friend date! Like let’s have fun just the two of us- well I mean Kenma can come too if you want-, uh, but I mean-, well I-, I-!” Kuroo’s face is flushed red and he covers his eyes with his arms now. 

“Relax,” I laugh. “I knew what you meant, jeez.” 

I stare at him still hiding his face, probably trying to gain his composure. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he mumbles. “Don’t look at me, you’re making this worse.” I can’t help but smile at how he groans when I poke his arm, teasing him further. 

“You’re such a baby!” I laugh and then cover my eyes with my hands, “Okay I promise I’m not looking. You can calm down now.”

I can hear him shuffling next to me, the weight of the bed lightens and I peak through my hands to see him walking to his desk. Kuroo still has his hands on his cheeks as he peaks into a mirror, carefully patting his face hoping the redness will tamper down. I watch him for a second, amused with the concern in his eyes as his cheeks are still determined in staying stained with… embarrassment? I know I should be offended that he didn’t _actually_ ask me out on a date, but who can see a 6’3” man become flustered over a word and be anything but amused? 

“You good?” My teasing question prompts Kuroo to glance up at the mirror and make eye contact with me. In response, he just rolls his eyes. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kuroo lets out a deep breath and slumps into his swivel chair. “Stop looking at me, it’s gonna come back.”

“I don’t get it,” I laugh and sit up cross legged. “Like, how have you…?” He stares at me unamused and unwilling to provide me help in finding my words. 

“Kuroo, how many friends have you had that were girls?” I sit up now, resting my head into the palm of my hand and give him a lazy grin. 

“ _Shut up_ -“

“No I’m serious! Sometimes I really wonder, because you get so flustered so easily. Like, c’mon you know you’re borderline deadly hot, and yet you’re the biggest dork ever-, look! You’re blushing again! It’s cute!” It’s official, my new hobby is to make him blush. It’s just too damn easy. 

“Shut up, I’m just not used to that crap.” Kuroo smushes his cheeks with his hands again and avoids eye contact with me. “You’re just irritating.”

“Big words from someone who can’t dish out what he serves,” I playfully roll my eyes. Kuroo still refuses to look me in the eyes, instead he twiddles with a loose string on his hoodie with a cute pout on his lips. 

“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll give you a chance to even the playing field.” At that he looks up at me, a sly glint in his eyes. _Oh no._

“Wait I take it back-“ I stammer. 

“Nope!” Kuroo laughs, recovering from his embarrassment suspiciously quickly, “Okay give me a second I want to make this a good one.” For show (or to be irritating I’m not sure which is worse), he strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Ground rules?”

My eyes catch the projector flickering to another slide, “Um… don’t be mean?”

“Okay the bar is low then,” Kuroo chuckles. “Oh! Okay, this will make you blush.” He leans back in his chair with a smirk. 

“Okay I didn’t say blush,” I roll my eyes and hope that the lights in his room are too dim to see that I’m already feeling heat rising in my cheeks. 

He stares at me, a wry smirk plastered over his face. I can’t break eye contact or else I lose, but I also can’t keep staring at him because I can feel every nerve ending in my body on fire and the only way I can lessen the burn is if I just _tell him_ -

“You know what? I’ll save it for later,” Kuroo leans back in his chair and folds his arms behind his head. “Why don’t we send you off with a good ol’ fashion drinking game?

-(-)-

“Alright,” Kuroo sits down a little too eager at our kitchen table, the bottle of bourbon and lemonade clanging loudly on the surface as he sets them down. “Here are the rules: we will each come up with a question to ask, you either tell the truth or if you plead the fifth you take a shot. Lie, and take a shot. Any questions?”

“Yes,” Kenma clears his throats. “How do you win?”

“Yeah a game usually means there’s a winner, Tetsū,” I drum my fingers on the table. 

“Just whoever can’t take any more shots until the last person standing, wins,” Kuroo smiles. “Luckily, I can smoke all ya guys easily.”

“Debatable,” Kenma laughs, “Let’s not pretend that you and Bokuto are great at handling your liquor.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo starts assembling a pile of laminated cards in the center of the table. “Okay, so I got these questions online. They’re a mix of different stuff, everyone needs to take a shot glass and then a small cup for the juice. Whoever has been closest to Portugal goes first.”

Kenma and I glance at each other skeptically, neither one of us knowing the answer. 

Kuroo stares in disbelief, “Seriously guys?” 

“Okay I’m an art major,” I raise my hand in defense. 

“I just don’t think about Portugal?” Kenma raises his shoulders at Testū and squints.

“I looked it up,” I say, not looking up from my phone now. “The U.S is about 4,558 miles and Japan is 9, 426. So I guess that means I go first since I’ve been here the longest, unless you guys have travelled to other countries before that’s closer.” They both shake their heads. “Okay! Here we go then.” 

I flip over my first card, snorting as soon as I read it. “Okay, ‘ _What’s my greatest physical asset?_ ’ Don’t be shy, I thrive on compliments.” I smirk and lean back in my chair. 

They both look at each other, shrug, and Kenma grabs the bourbon to pour him and Kuroo a shot. 

“What?!” I gasp, “ _Already_? Y’all can’t say one nice thing?”

Kuroo winces as he sips juice to ease the burn in his throat, “I just don’t think I’m drunk enough.”

“Wow, okay,” I smile and roll my eyes, “And you Kenma?”

“I took a shot, I legally do not have to answer.” Kenma reaches for the next card. “‘ _Was your childhood happier than the average person’s?’_ ” 

I snort, “Uh, what age range are you talking? Because from baby to 11 years old maybe, but 11 on is something else.” I reach for the bottle and take a shot, “Agh. Either way it wasn’t awful, but definitely had some shining terrible moments. 

“I mean,” Kenma looks up the ceiling trying to recall his childhood. “Mine was fine.”

“Dude you were bullied, like badly?” Kuroo laughs, “Also you had one friend until high school.”

“But I’m not scarred from it,” Kenma rolls his eyes. 

“Debatable,” I tease. 

“I mean I wasn’t bullied, but I did only have Kenma as a friend for a little while until I joined the volleyball club in school… oh, my mom did abandon me and my dad. The biggest question is what even is the average of happy childhoods? Are we to assume that the majority are actually neurotypical people and not those with trauma?” We sit in silence trying to come up with a reasonable answer. 

“The biggest question is if we should even compare traumas as bigger than others.” I add. 

“So...even?” Kenma offers, we all nod and take another shot together for our collective traumas. 

“Alright my turn,” Kuroo clears his throat. “‘ _What is something you’re struggling with, that we don’t know about?_ ’”

“The will to live, next question.” Kenma answers while I take a shot. 

“Okay, I’m writing this down so we can properly talk about _that_ later,” Kuroo shakes his head and types into his phone. 

“And you Tetsū?” I ask, grimacing at the lemonade not really doing it’s job anymore. There’s a small silence before he takes a shot himself, causing the three of us to laugh together. 

“My turn,” I flip another card. “‘ _If I killed someone, would you help me cover it up?_ ’”

“Yes,” Kuroo and Kenma both answer without hesitating. 

“Same!” I cheer. 

“Okay,” Kenma holds up a new card and giggles. “‘ _Have you ever pooped yourself as an adult?_ ’ Kuroo this is a stupid question.”

“Nope!” I laugh and sip more juice, Kenma joins in on my answer and we stare at Kuroo who is silently mulling over something. 

“No-, _no way_ …” I whisper, as Kuroo takes a shot. 

“Does that mean you have?!” Kenma shouts, holding his hands to his temple in disbelief. 

“I don’t have to answer,” Kuroo mumbles and quickly takes another card. “‘ _If you were to kill me, how would you do it?_ ’ Please be creative or else you take a shot.” 

“Ah crap, hold on then. I’ve thought about this,” Kenma mutters. 

“You’ve _thought_ about this?” Kuroo stumbles over his words, although I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol. 

“I mean, Kenma listens to my murder podcasts with me and we’ve had long talks about how stupid some of those people are.” I rest my head on my hand and drum my fingers against my cheek, “Obviously we can't get caught and it has to look like an accident.”

“Obviously,” Kenma agrees. “How about we sneak into his lab classes or whatever they’re called, switch chemicals and he accidentally-“ Kenma clicks his tongue and swiftly moves a finger across his neck. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Kuroo laughs. 

“Yeah Kenma,” I roll my eyes. “Also too complicated, we might end up on cameras. How about injecting a needle into him but it’s just air? Causes an embolism.”

“Sure, but it would raise suspicions since he’s 23 and an athlete.” Kenma hums thoughtfully. 

“Okay someone pick a new question I’m uncomfortable,” Kuroo takes a shot for us. 

I laugh and pick another card for Kuroo’s sake, to which he gratefully sighs. “Okay, uh, ‘ _Do you have any scars to show us? And tell us the story on how you got it.’”_

“Why would I drink to this question?” Kenma snarkily asks Kuroo, “Okay I got this scar because Kuroo threw a rock at me once when I was 10 and it was sharp and it cut me.” He moves back his hair and shows me a faint scar right under left his ear on the curve of his jaw. Kenma’s cheek tints pink when I lean in close to see it better. 

“ _To be fair_ ,” Kuroo raises his voice defensively, “I didn’t know it was going to cut him. He was ignoring me playing on his DS and I was trying to show him a cool skateboard trick. So I threw a rock to get his attention.” 

“It wasn’t even cool! You slipped and fell on your ass as soon as you jumped!” Kenma laughs. “Show Sabi the one you got from biking down that hill with Bokuto.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs “You can barely even see it!”

“Now I _really_ want to see!” I struggle momentarily to get out of my chair and walk over to Kuroo who sighs and lifts his right sleeve up higher to show me a small scar. 

“Oh it’s not bad,” I thumb over it softly, “Why would you be embarrassed?” Looking up, Kuroo’s cheeks have pinked now from the alcohol and he pouts. 

“Because _how_ I got it was stupid.” He drops his sleeve and I sit back down. 

“Bokuto bet he can ride down faster, so when Kuroo beat him he got too excited. In the middle of bragging he fell off the bike.” Kenma laughs at the memory and picks up another card. “Oh god. Can I get a new question?” He shows Kuroo his card, who cheekily shakes his head no. 

“Go on, ask.” Kuroo crosses his arms. 

Kenma sighs, “‘ _Who’s the smartest person here?’”_

“Kuroo take a shot,” I wave my hand. “We all know it’s you, it’s your punishment.”

“What?” He exclaims, “How is it _my_ fault?”

“You need to be humbled,” I press my lips together and nod faux sympathetically at him. “Wait, we skipped my turn!”

“Sucks to suck,” Kenma snickers. “You’re already slipping up over there.” 

“Not fair-“

“Tsk, my turn!” Kuroo reaches for a card. “‘ _What’s the worst date you’ve been on? Tell us all the details.’_ ”

I take a shot. 

“Oh c’mon!” Kuroo whines, “Tell us!”

“Please?” Kenma manages to give me puppy eyes, a move I didn’t know he was even capable of making. 

“Agh, no. You answer Kenma!” I shake my head, refusing to give into his cute, pleading face. 

Kenma takes in a deep breath, “It was 2015, Aiko asked me if I wanted to go to a cafe with her and I said sure because she was cute. But she stood me up, see, because Testū had let me skip volleyball practice that day for the date, and she wanted to catch him alone outside our gyms.” 

I gasp, “No! You’re kidding! What did you do, Tetsū?”

“I asked why she wasn’t with Kenma, and she told me that _he_ stood _her_ up. Which I knew was a lie because we talked all the night before on what to talk to a girl about and you don’t do that if you’re not excited about the date.” Kuroo rolls his eyes at the memory. 

“Kenma,” I pout my bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, that’s so awful. I wish I would’ve known you, I probably would’ve met up with you at that cafe place!”

“It’s fine, I’m very much so over it.” Kenma’s finger circles the rim of his shot glass. 

“Don’t take girl advice from Kuroo, though. I don’t know why people think he’s like…” I trail off trying to find the right wording. 

“Oh I’m aware,” Kenma nods. “I think you’re his only girl friend.” 

Kuroo chokes on his lemonade, “Next question.”

“I get two since y’all skipped me,” I don’t take a card though and close my eyes to think of one on my own. 

“If you can switch bodies with one of your friends, who would it be and why?”

“Akaashi,” Kenma answers. “Solely because he won’t tell me all of Bokuto’s weaknesses.”

“Well that’s assuming you infiltrate his thoughts,” I reply but he just shrugs his shoulders. 

“I’d trade with you, Sabi-chan.” Kuroo nods affirmatively to his answer and takes a small sip of bourbon, “So I can see how you live being 3 feet tall.”

“Wow, I’m 5 foot 2 and ¾. Thank you very much,” I huff. “Alright next question. Uh… oh okay, if I were in a relationship with someone you hated, would you tell me? I’ve actually been in this situation before, so I genuinely want to know your guys’ answers.” 

“Hmm,” Kenma hums. “I would, but I think I’d end up pissing you off accidentally-. Ah, crap. Akaashi is calling me about the video I sent him. Be right back.” 

Kenma leaves the table, teetering slightly as he holds his phone up to his ear and stumbles into his room. 

“How about you?” I ask Kuroo. I don’t know what it is, but something in the air shifts. He’s looking at me in deep thought, tension between his eyes. 

“I only would if I saw you weren’t happy,” he says without breaking eye contact. “But if you were, there’s nothing I can do but suck up my feelings and make sure you’ll be taken care of.”

“Taken care of?” I tilt my head. 

“I mean, that he treats you respectfully and kindly. If he were to make you cry, I’d probably kick his ass and then tell you off for not listening to me in the first place considering I always tell you who annoys me.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed at this hypothetical. 

“You’re assuming that you in this hypothetical situation, you probably tell me that this pretend guy I’m interested in is a jerk and I ignore you and then I inevitably get hurt?” I scoff. 

“Yes, because you’re stubborn!” He chuckles, “Also you just _love_ to not listen to me, remember when I told you that the curry we took you out for was too hot and you ignored me? What happened?” Kuroo patiently waits for me to answer with a small smile, but I stay quiet. “Right, your eyes kept tearing up and your nose was running and you complained all night about your face burning.”

“Oh whatever,” I sip more bourbon although I probably shouldn’t since I can feel that soon my loose thoughts will turn to words. “Should we wait for Kenma to come back? It’s his turn.”

Kuroo looks behind him at Kenma’s closed door, “Probably not. Keiji tends to be thorough when it comes to editing Kenma’s gaming videos, they might be a while.” His eyes flicker to the cards in front of us, but he decides to not take one. 

“Tell me about the guy you like,” he says, breaking the small silence. 

I choke on my lemonade, “Excuse me?”

“I overheard you talking to one of your classmates a while back about you being nervous to see a guy you knew,” he smiles at me. “I’m just sad you never talked to me about him!”

“So you _want_ to hear about my romantic life?” I ask dubiously, unfortunately my shy smile gives me away. 

“Of course, I’m your friend.” 

_Oh._

_Right._

“I don’t have one Kuroo,” I laugh and meet his gaze again. “You probably heard me wrong.”

“Really.” He asks, not buying a word I’m saying. 

“Yeah, really.”

“Take a shot,” he laughs. “You can’t lie in this game.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” _Because you are._

“You’re all flustered and pink!” Kuroo gestures to my face and then lays his cheek against his propped hand. 

“I’ve been drinking, this is my booze glow.” I roll my eyes. I take a shot though, making him raise his eyebrows. “That didn’t mean anything, I just wanted another.” 

“I know it’s not Akaashi, I learned that the hard way.” Kuroo studies my face now, looking for any reaction. “Kenma told me he had an idea, but I don’t believe him.”

“He told you _what_?” I raise my voice in disbelief. 

“It was while you were at the guys’ apartment, I told you we had a long talk.” Kuroo tilts his head, smiling. 

“But why was my love life being discussed? That’s the real question!” I watch Kuroo pour bourbon into my lemonade cup. He doesn’t answer me, just keeps a stupid grin on his face. 

“I don’t think he actually told you anything because he told me-“ I shut my mouth. 

“Told you what?” He smirks, pouring bourbon into his own lemonade cup. 

“Nothing,” I shake my head and drink the new mixture to avoid saying more than I should. 

“Let’s move to the couch, my back is hurting from sitting here too long.” Kuroo sits up and groans from stretching out his body. 

We both sway to the couch and plop down together, careful not to drop our drinks. Kuroo’s head rests on my belly, the rest of his body stretching over the length of the couch. Muscle memory alone leads my fingers to play with his hair, his eyes flutter shut and I tilt my head back to rest my eyes too. 

“If you had to describe your last relationship with a TV show or movie title, what would it be?” Kuroo slurs slightly. 

“ _Parasyte_ ,” I snort, he laughs too. “Next question.”

He hums thoughtfully, “When were you at your lowest, emotionally?” I can’t help but stop running my hand through his hair. 

“Sorry you don’t have to answer,” he murmurs. 

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting a deep question.” I laugh softly and take a sip of my drink careful to not spill any on myself or Kuroo. “It was before the school year started, there was a good two weeks of me contemplating, like, _not_ living-“ I laugh, “-It was bad though, I can’t even tell you what was going through my head exactly I think I blocked it all out.”

Kuroo shifts so he can take a peek of my face, “What got you out of it?”

“My sister,” I answer truthfully. “She called me to tell me that she was making friends and she wanted me to fly out there to her and meet them. Then classes started, I still had to work even if I didn’t want to exist. It was slow, but yeah.”

“Have you ever told anyone this?” He asks with his glass touching his lips. 

“Yeah my job offers therapy sessions so I talked to a counselor about it, I don’t really use it often though unless I absolutely need it. It got easier when I started to really love my classes and…yeah.” I hesitate.

“And what?” Kuroo gently asks. 

“Nothing,” I chuckle, finishing the rest of my glass. “Well I met you, and then the rest of everyone else too. It’s been a long time since I’ve been part of something, it’s nice.”

Kuroo is quiet, either contemplating my answer or has fallen asleep. 

“Testū? Kuroo Tetsurou?” I ask, playfully pulling at his hair hoping that makes him respond. 

“I’m glad we met,” I see him smile. “And I’m glad you didn’t do anything or else we might’ve never met.”

“Well you needed that stupid S’mores Frappuccino, so it would’ve been inevitable of us meeting.” In a sudden motion he flips over on top of me and softly kisses my forehead. My lips part in surprise, my words failing to move past them.

“You’re so cute for remembering my order from way back then,” he chuckles and then moves back down to rest on top of my body. 

“You’re so dumb. Shut up,” I manage to muster up, my fingers lightly touching where his lips had pressed themselves onto my skin. 

“Never,” he laughs. 

Kenma never did come back out, although we did try to stay up late in case he did. Until neither of us could keep our eyes open, we talked in the dim living room. Even then, we talked until we were too tired to form words. When I felt that I couldn’t lift my hands to even stroke his hair, Tetsurou pressed them against his chest with his own hands over mine. Faintly, I remember the light in the kitchen being switched off. It must’ve been Kenma though, because Kuroo never picked himself off of me. And it must’ve been Kenma who placed a blanket over us. I don’t remember much, but I do remember holding onto the sound of Kuroo softly breathing and the feeling of his chest rising and falling, his heart faithfully beating under my finger tips. 

-(-)-


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for waiting, sorry it took forever!! I edited and re-edited. also I figured out that my dyslexia accidentally made me misspell tetsū’s name for like almost all my chapters so I had to go fix that 😅 if you find a misspelling- no you didn’t ❤️ anyway enjoy!!

_Ah. Poison._

The nausea is what wakes me up. I don’t have to open my eyes to know that I’m still on the couch with Kuroo, but the blinding light filtering into the living room confirms the cause of my inevitable suffering. _Aw man, I have to drive today too._ I rub my hand over my face, hoping to massage the exhaustion- and hangover- out of my system. Kuroo’s dead weight on top of my body does nothing to relieve the pain in my spine, he seems to be out cold too. 

“Kuroo,” I murmur. “ _Kuroo_.” 

Silence.

Refusing to open my eyes, I blindly tap Kuroo’s body. “Kuroo,” I whine. “I need to-, _oh god_.” I squirm underneath his weight, another wave of nausea hits me. I touch his sides, a place where he's always been ticklish, in hopes he’d squirm himself awake. 

“Tetsū, get up, I think I’m going to throw up.” I gently pat his cheeks and smile when he starts to groan. “Seriously, man. I’m going to puke.” 

“ _Hnngh_ ,” he moans again. “ _Please don’t._ ” Slowly he moves off me, rubbing his eyes. I hurry off to the bathroom. 

“Damn his stupid drinking games,” I mutter to myself. 

Leaving the bathroom, even the carpet feels cold underneath my bare feet. I rub the goosebumps forming on my arms and wonder why no one turned on the heat last night. In the hallway, I can’t help but stop to stare at Kenma’s closed door. When did he even sleep last night? He has nasty habit of staying up late, so he probably won’t be up for hours. I’ve had enough late nights cramming in my projects the night before they’re due to catch the glow in his room. Sometimes I’d even say hi after my night trip to the kitchen, his eyes barely glanced at me but when they did they were _intense._

Even more likely he won’t wake up, considering the stupid game we played last night. My cheeks burn when I remember Kuroo’s kiss last night, I try to dampen my smile by reminding myself it was just on my forehead. 

_“Tell me about the guy you like,” he said with a confident smile, but his eyes were anything but._

_“Kenma told me he had an idea, but I don’t believe him.”_

At that, I decide to check on Kenma. Quietly, I open his door and step inside. He’s kicked off his blankets; while I’m making sure he’s not going to freeze to death, I can’t help but wonder what he and Kuroo talked about. All around the room is the evidence that Kenma had been working all last night. As I try to make his room less of a fire hazard, my mind is finally ready to sort out the events yesterday. I realize that Kuroo had hinted to a conversation he and Kenma had before, a few times already. A conversation before I came back from Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment. What did they talk about? 

_Did Kenma know something, before he talked to me yesterday in my room? What does Kenma know, that I don’t? Is it possible that Kuroo actually-_

“Here, put this on his night stand.” Kuroo says behind me, scaring the crap out of me. 

“Jeez,” I hold my hand to my racing heart, “Can you walk louder please?” I reach out for the glass of water in his hands though, and do as he says. I focus on breathing, hoping it’ll calm my rapid heartbeat. 

“You scared _me_ , I didn’t expect to see anyone in here.” Kuroo breathes out, letting go of any composure he had. 

He works alongside me, picking up the countless junk food wrappers and energy drink cans. Unfortunately, another wave of nausea hits me and he forces me to rest in Kenma’s chair. As he cleans, I can’t help but stare at Kuroo’s disheveled figure. He has deep circles under his eyes, his hair is wilder than usual, but the PC screens glowing softly in the room highlight his sharp cheekbones. When he shivers, I can’t help but notice his muscles rippling through his arms, the curve of his thighs even through his fleece sweatpants. 

I know I’m staring, I’m _very actively aware_ that I am practically drooling over him. Maybe there’s still alcohol in my system? Who knows. If he were to catch me, I’ll have to think of an excuse. 

_I’m not staring, you just happen to be where my eyes fall on._

_I’m trying to not to hurl right now-_

Oh, crap. He’s making direct eye contact with me now. Quickly I make a pointed look at Kenma, pretending to insinuate that he needs to hurry up before we accidentally wake up Kenma. 

“He’s out cold,” Kuroo says, his eyebrows furrowed. He walks towards me, leaning in close to turn off the monitors behind me. My breath quietly hitches, I can feel the warmth of his body close next to me; a stark difference from the cold room. He glances at me, quietly scanning my face with a very subtle smirk on his face. 

“What?” He whispers. Just a moment ago, panic surged through me when we made eye contact. Now, though, we hold our gaze. It was not even a second, but he breaks our eye contact and glances down at my lips. 

“Nothing, you just look like crap.” _Idiot. This was_ just _like last time-_

Kuroo rolls his eyes, “Come on. You need to eat.”

I moan painfully, “No thanks.”

He shoots me a look, but with a playful smile he helps me out of Kenma’s chair. Kuroo leads me out the room with his hand pressed on the small of my back, my heart stutters feeling how warm his hand feels against me. I duck my head so he can’t see my reaction to his touch. 

“Getting carbohydrates into your system is important since drinking the amount we drank last night basically dropped our blood sugar levels to nothing,” Kuroo starts, his hand still on me. 

“Oh yeah?” I mumble, biting back a smile. See, Kuroo has an amazing talent in flustering me with something as simple as a touch. But his little science lectures? If anything it just reminds me that in the end, he’s kind of a major dork. Who couldn’t fall for that duality? 

“Mhm,” he hums. “Toast and juice for us. Is lemonade okay? Oh, sorry.” Kuroo laughs when he sees my face twisting, “No to lemonade?”

“Dude right now I just associate it with the stupid bourbon,” I cross my arms and slowly lay my head on the counter. My eyes flutter shut when I feel the cool granite starting to soothe my headache. 

“I think all we have is lemon-, er, _that_. You know what, though? Coffee is good since it’s a stimulant, but since it’s still a diuretic we still need to drink water-“

“Pack it up Bill Nye,” I interrupt Kuroo, peaking my eyes open in time to see his cheeks flush pink. “Coffee sounds good.” 

“ _You’re_ the barista,” Kuroo shrugs and shoots me a conniving smile. 

“ _Tetsū_ ,” I whine, hiding my face in the crook of my elbow. “Please?” 

“ _Sabrina_ ,” he mocks my tone. “I don’t even like coffee. You want me to make you a whole pot of coffee just so you can take one sip and hurl again?”

“Then why even suggest coffee? To tease me?” Kuroo shoots me with a wicked grin, still unswayed. 

“Yeah but the coffee machine can make a cup, right? I’ll make you a tea if you want, but please? For me?” I attempt to bat my eyes the way Kenma does when he wants to watch a horror movie that Kuroo refuses to see with him. 

“You’re impossible,” He laughs and ruffles my hair. “Fine. But if your tea makes _my_ hangover worse I’ll make you listen to my next biochem presentation-“

“Okay okay,” I wave him off. 

“Alright, I’ll make you a cup of coffee for your empty little head then.” He snickers when I throw a stray napkin at him. I let myself close my eyes again, trying not to let myself think about throwing up again. 

“Y’kay?” Kuroo asks, his voice laced with amusement. 

“I think Kenma won the game last night,” I say. “If not him, then me.”

“ _Right,_ so why do you look like hell right now?” Tetsū leans on the counter, the sound of the coffee machine bubbling filling the kitchen. 

I glare at him, “So do you. Your hair is all…” I gesture vaguely. 

He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair, trying to pat it down. “Yeah, perfect for picking up an ex from the airport, huh?” 

“Ew,” I wince, “You’re picking her up?” 

“She asked,” Kuroo sighs. “But I’m just taking her back to her hotel or wherever she’s staying. It’s not ‘till later too, so I get to at least see you off before you leave.”

“When is she flying in?” My chest warms knowing he’s thinking of me. 

“I think she’ll land sometime tonight. Kenma and I are just gonna play video games with the guys until I gotta go- Are you cold?” Kuroo asks when he sees my shiver. He gives me a nearly black cup of coffee, our hands briefly graze the other. 

“Yeah but this should warm me up, don’t worry.” I tentatively take a sip, melting into the richness that soothes my upset stomach. “Oh this is perfect, Tetsū.”

“Yeah?” He asks with a grin, “Good. You are gonna catch a cold though, do you want a hoodie?”

“It’s fine. I’ll live,” I shrug. “This is literally perfect though, oh my god.”

“Your standards are low, Sabi.” Kuroo laughs, a soft pink dusts his cheeks. 

“I’m too weak to think of a rude thing to say, so I’m going to keep emphasizing that this coffee is the best I’ve had in awhile.” Kuroo sits across from me and lazily smiles, resting his head into the bend of his elbow with one eye watching me drink his coffee. “Why did no one turn on the heat last night?”

“Well,” Kuroo sighs, “We were all pretty drunk. And I don’t think anyone expected the weather to drop this quickly- oh! Oh my god, we have to do something when you come back.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“I’m not going to tell you,” he closes his eyes and smiles thoughtfully, “But it’s going to be fun. And we need to do it before the weather gets any colder or else.”

“Sounds like an outside activity,” I say. 

“Well I’m not going to give you any hints. It might be slightly illegal though-“

“That sounds like a hint,” I chuckle, shivering again. 

“Okay that’s it.” Kuroo stands up quickly, pausing briefly to breathe through his nausea. He leaves me alone in the kitchen, ignoring my pleas to leave my stuff alone. While he’s gone, I force myself to make his tea. He has a slightly mischievous smile when he returns, holding a red hoodie I don’t recognize. 

“This isn’t mine,” I state the obvious. 

“And? You told me not to dig through your clothes, which makes me wonder what cute little things you’re hiding but I’ll just find out when you’re gone.” Kuroo teases, laughing at my displeased face. He hands me the hoodie, sitting back patiently. 

“My mom isn’t gonna leave me alone if I wear a hoodie that ‘drowns my figure’,” I say wearily. It’s warm though, and soft. “This isn’t actually that big, when did you wear this?” 

“I didn’t,” Kuroo laughs. “It was Kenma’s volleyball hoodie from back in high school. After he graduated, he wanted to throw it out but I kept it in case he ever decided he wanted it back. Oh thank you,” He lifts his tea to his nose and breathes in. 

“Did he?” I ask, settling back into my chair. My hand accidentally hits my mug though, spilling coffee onto the counter and some papers. I curse, realizing that these are some of Kuroo’s TA papers. “I’m so sorry, oh my god!”

“It’s okay,” he reassures me and dabs his work with paper towels. I force him to sit down while I clean up my mess. “Kenma never did ask about it,” He sighs, “He shouldn’t mind you wearing it though. You can keep it.”

“I don’t think I should just take something that isn’t mine,” l frown, settling back into my chair. I let my fingers graze over the fabric, my body shivers again. 

“Kenma won’t mind-“

“I won’t mind what?” Kenma grumbles, from the hallway. 

The two of us share accusatory looks, which one of us was being too loud? I hold my breath, hoping Kenma doesn’t bite our heads off. Kuroo hands him a hair tie from his wrist, which Kenma takes with a nod. He’s tying his hair up again when he repeats his question. 

“You don’t mind if Sabi wears your old hoodie right?” Kuroo asks. 

At that, Kenma finally looks over at me and his face reddens. _Aw crap,_ I think and shut my eyes. 

“It’s-, I mean it’s weird. I thought I threw that out years ago, why does she have it?” Kenma’s voice is tight around his newly filled glass of water. 

“I thought you’d probably want it so I kept it just in case,” Kuroo shrugs. “But you never did. She was cold and begged me no to go through her stuff.” He eyes Kenma, whose cheeks are still flushed with annoyance. 

“Why not one of your hoodies?” Kenma shuts his eyes, flicking the kitchen light off. 

“They needed to be washed-“

“I’m sorry,” I sheepishly apologize. “I don’t have to wear it, I have some packed away somewhere-“

“It’s fine,” Kenma snaps, before sighing. “I mean I didn’t want it in the first place, so just keep it.”

“Okay,” I say hushedly. 

Kenma’s shoulders hunch in exhaustion, he leaves without another word. On his face though, it’s written all over. He’s annoyed. 

The two of us stare down the hallway where Kenma disappeared off into. 

“Y’sure he’s okay?” I ask. “He seemed pretty pissed off.”

At first, he doesn’t reply. Tetsurou stares down the hallway with a serious expression, very similar to the one he gets when he’s trying to figure out cell mutation in genetic codes for his homework. A second call to his name and he looks over at me with distant eyes, his mind still elsewhere. 

“Did’ja hear me?” I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes in concern. 

“Sorry,” he massages the back of his neck, “He gets migraines like you do, except they only happen when he’s hungover. Don’t worry,” Kuroo gives me a smile, and his serious expression is gone. He urges me to put on the hoodie before I get a cold and get my family sick, to which I oblige. 

Something in his eyes is off though. Even though he’s in front of me, teasing and praising my tea, I can tell that he’s still thinking about Kenma. To be honest, so am I, it’s rare that Kenma is short with me. Tetsū must’ve seen the hurt in my eyes, because he’s trying his best to get me to relax back into our conversation. Still, it’s in his eyes. His mind is distracted, too. 

-(-)-

Surprisingly, Kenma didn’t go back to bed. Instead he’s been in the living room working on his laptop while I’ve been bustling back and forth the house. Kuroo helps as much as he can without pushing his hangover too far, listing off items I may need or may have forgotten. 

“You can’t drive without some snacks,” Tetsū playfully scolds. “What happens when you’re driving and you start to feel your blood sugar drop-“

“Again with the blood sugar,” I laugh, gathering my bags at the door for later. “It’s not even a long drive, I’ll live. Besides we don’t even have snacks here-“

“I’ll go buy some,” Tetsū shrugs, “There’s a reason I’m the best driver out of all of us, you know.”

“Because you eat while you drive?”

“Yes- _hey_ , _no_. It’s because I am always prepared. Unlike you,” He gives me a pointed look. 

“If you’re getting snacks then could you get me some Almond Joys and hot fries?” I follow him through the house as he twirls his car keys around his finger. 

“Oh so you’re making me go by myself?” He deadpans, he stops twirling his keys. 

“Yup,” I nod. “You’re the one who wants me to eat, I didn’t mind leaving without snacks.”

“Fine fine,” he waves me off. I plop onto the couch next to Kenma. 

“Take care of each other!” Kuroo calls out before stuffing a hat over his messy hair. 

“Yeah yeah,” Kenma and I reply before he shuts the door. 

The house is silent after he leaves, and the awkwardness between Kenma and I grows. He ignores me as he types away on his laptop, most likely working on the video he made last night. Maybe I should take off his hoodie, obviously he’s weird about it. With my phone charging in my room, my body still rejecting the poison in me, and my general laziness to find the remote, there’s nothing to distract me away from Kenma’s brooding silence. Inwardly, I debate on asking him directly if he has an issue with me wearing the stupid sweater. Outwardly, I sit stiffly next to him. _Well,_ I breathe in deeply. _Here goes nothing._

“You sure it’s okay? For me to have your hoodie?” I ask. I nervously stuff my hands in the front pocket hoping to hide them wringing against each other.

Kenma glances at me, something flashes in his eyes too quickly for me to register it before he shrugs and looks back down at his laptop. “I seriously don’t care, Kuroo is just annoying sometimes.”

“How so?” I chuckle. “I mean, _he is,_ but still.” 

He looks up from his screen again, his eyes unfocused as he stares ahead to think of his answer. Briefly, he looks over at me and sighs. “I-, _hmph…_ I-, ugh! My brain can’t think!” Kenma groans and rubs his head, “I mean I’d rather it be you than someone else, don’t get me wrong. I think Kuroo forgets boundaries sometimes,” Kenma sighs and goes back to typing. 

“I get it,” I nod. I open my mouth to add more, but stop myself. Waiting a few moments, Kenma speaks up again. 

“Again, I’m not even mad at your or Kuroo. I’m just tired, and his stupid game last night affected me more than I thought.” Kenma lowers his brightness on his screen. 

“Same,” I laugh. “I already told him you won though, so maybe that’s why he’s decided to give away your things.”

Kenma snorts, and finally I can feel the tension leaving the air. I lean in close to watch him work, mesmerized by the way his hands fly on the keyboard all the while his eyes never leaving the screen. At one point, he asks if I wouldn’t mind doing an animation for his video. I shrug, saying I wouldn’t mind having a distraction while being off with my family. His eyes are stoic, focused on getting loose ends of his work done. When I ask him a question, it takes a moment to get him out of his zone before he replies. At least Kenma doesn’t show he’s irritated by my presence, though. Instead, he takes his time explaining his process and finally puts on music in the background so that he’s no longer working in silence. 

I clear my throat, “So I actually had a shirt from high school that was pretty cool. We had this, like, career school attached to our normal high school where you could take career courses. Anyway, for the career center, they had T-shirts made my junior year. They were Pac-man themed, and on the back of the shirt had the different courses with different level markers next to them, it was super cool.” 

Kenma stops typing and starts watching me tell him this story, instead. 

“I was so freaking excited seeing that my culinary class was in the top five,” I laugh at the memory. “I used to really love that shirt.”

“What happened to it?” He asks, his thumb brushes over his bottom lip as he watches me try to recollect my memories. 

“I either threw it out or donated it, a couple years after graduating.” I reply, pulling my legs up onto the couch and moving closer to Kenma’s warm body. 

“Why’d you get rid of it?” He asks, shifting his focus back onto his laptop. 

“It reminded me too much of my ex-boyfriend. At the time I got rid of it, I associated that shirt with him. It just made me upset thinking about all those stupid choices I made with him, or for him. Now though, I know it was a kickass shirt and I would give anything to have it again.” I lean back onto the couch and huff, “Screw him for making that shirt sad.”

“Screw him,” Kenma agrees and smiles for the first time that day. 

“I guess my point is that if you regret giving away the hoodie let me know, I don’t have to keep it.” I glance back at Kenma, who starts to tie his hair back into a loose bun. Two front pieces are stubborn, though, and refuse to stay in the elastic and instead decide to lightly kiss his jaw. 

“It doesn’t fit me anymore,” Kenma shakes his head at my words. “And assuming I regretted giving it away, _which I don’t_ , I wouldn’t tell you or Tetsurou that for the matter.”

I laugh, “Okay, whatever. I’ll keep it then. It’s warm and cozy, anyway.” 

“It also smells like it’s been in Kuroo’s closet for like four years,” Kenma snorts. “You sure you don’t want it washed or something?”

“If I take it off now, I might freeze.”

“Then go turn on the heat-“

“No! Last time I touched the thermostat, you threatened to make me pay all of the bill.” I huff. 

“Ah, damn.” He snickers, “I thought that’d work.”

I smile, turning my attention back to Kenma’s editing. I’m not all that surprised he wasn’t able to do all of this in one night. I am impressed, though, that he managed to do a decent job doing it while mostly drunk. I’m even more so impressed when I realize he’s pushing himself to work through a migraine. 

“Hey,” I clear my throat, “Um, what did you and Tetsū talk about when I was gone?”

“Gone?”

“Like when I was crashing at the guys’ place.”

Kenma nods in recognition now, “Ah. Why?”

“Y’all holding secret house meetings without me? You can’t form an alliance against me, Kenma. You and I already made a pact to take Kuroo down with Bokuto.”

There’s a faint smile playing on his lips. “I think you should talk to Kuroo.”

“You think he’d actually tell me what goes on in your secret meetings?”

Kenma laughs, “They’re not purposely set meetings. It just happens to be that you aren’t there.”

Another comfortable silence falls upon us beside the light taps of Kenma’s keyboard and our soft breathing. Kenma’s phone, and mine from my room, rings a text from Kuroo. Kenma angles his screens so I can read it:

**roommate 1:**

**on my way back. see you guys soon**

Another text appears though, outside our house chat. 

**roommate 1:**

**hey I think we should talk again..**

“Oh,” I quickly avert my eyes. “Sorry, he’s texting just you now.” 

“Hm?” Kenma looks down and frowns. I leave him to answer Kuroo to go find my art tablet, determined to start helping Kenma with his video now before I forget. Coming back, he’s hunched over his laptop gnawing on his bottom lip. Usually I find him like this when it’s 4 in the morning and he’s on a deadline, but within a few minutes I’ve gone he’s done a 180 from before. 

“Y’kay?” I ask, settling down next to him. For a second he doesn’t reply, but he glances up and furrows his eyebrows when he sees me waiting for a response. I repeat my question, more gently, and he gives me a nod. 

“You and Tetsū aren’t fighting right?” A stone settles in the bottom of my stomach at the thought of them two not talking again. 

“What?” Kenma snaps out of his anxious daze, “No, no. Of course not.” His eyes soften when they meet mine, “Sorry, it’s really nothing. I just remembered that I need this video to be out by tonight and I’m barely done.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod, not entirely convinced. “Are you good then? Physically, I mean.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, “God, I’ve had worse mornings after but this takes the cake. Stupid Kuroo and his drinking games. He can barely even handle it, himself.”

“Oh you should’ve seen him try to walk,” I snicker. “Take a deer right after being born and then slap on Kuroo’s hair, and there you go.” Kenma laughs, only slightly grimacing at his headache. 

“And you? I thought I heard you hurling earlier,” he sniffs and goes back to work. 

“As long as I stay still, and don’t think about bourbon-“

“-Which is officially impossible at the moment.”

“Yes,” I hunch over and playfully whine, “And I have to pretend to my parents that I am in perfect health.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kenma ruefully smiles, “Last time you were like this you were all good by the end of the night.”

“True,” I nod. “Ramen sounds delicious though, right now. I would actively be late home tonight if it means I can get a decent bowl before leaving.”

Kenma laughs, “I’d prioritize a shower over food for you.”

“What’re you trynna tell me?” I lean back to see Kenma better, who just shrugs. 

“You look like hell, Sabrina.” Kenma deadpans, giving me a once over. 

“You look like a goblin,” I glare, pulling up my frizzy hair into a bun. “You look like you soaked in battery acid overnight.”

“Yeah? You look like you ate your own cooking-“

“-Wow! Uncalled for, that was _one_ time-“

“-One time too many,” Kenma scoffs, “You gave us food poisoning!”

“It wasn’t my fault the rice was left out! We’ve already had a trial about this and the verdict was ‘not guilty’.” I hold my hand in the air, closing my eyes so as to not look at Kenma’s judgemental look. 

“That’s because Kuroo was totally biased.”

“ _And_ because _he_ was the one who left it out all night, and without telling anyone put it back in the fridge.” I retort, unwilling to be the first one to lose our stare off. 

Kenma sighs, “God that was a terrible two days. Even now, I can barely eat rice.”

“I eat rice just fine,” I say with a smug glint in my eyes. 

Kenma narrows his eyes, “Bourbon. Shots. Lemonade. Tequila. Vodka-“

“What’re you-“ I gasp, “That’s _evil_ _!_ ” I smack Kenma’s arm, but he just laughs. “Well, I _was_ going to start the animation you needed. But I guess I’ll go take a hot shower instead.”

“Good.”

“When was the last time _you_ even showered, Kenma?” I roll my eyes. He pauses, taking a moment to think. 

Holding my hand up I say, “Never mind. I’ll be back.”

-(-)-

“Okay,” I drop onto the couch, nearly bouncing my tablet off onto the floor. Kenma doesn’t glance my way, his hair drips onto a towel around his neck. “What were some ideas you had for the animation?”

He playfully tugs on one of my curls, tugging harder when I complain. “Sweet, okay so yesterday while I was recording Kuroo interrupted and had his whole bit-“ 

Kenma goes on to explain the scenario to me again while I nod as the memory comes back to me. Soon the both of us are working furiously together, cramming in as many ideas as we can before I have to leave this afternoon.

Every once in a while I glance over at Kenma, biting back my smile. I had just come out the shower and he was outside waiting for his turn, unwilling to make eye contact with me. I’ve learned from Kuroo that Kenma _will_ overwork himself, forgoing eating properly and drinking water if it meant he could sit in a chair for hours straight without interruption. Showers included. I don’t tease him though, about his hair still damp and smelling heavily of my conditioner (at this point I get it by the liter, the both of them have refused to stop using it and refused to admit it). 

His phone rings with another text from Kuroo, this time in our chat, telling us he’s getting lunch. Kenma eventually takes a break, arching his back with a soft groan. Lazily, he glances over my shoulder watching me draw. 

“How many frames are you at?” He asks in a low voice, his close proximity brings a chill down my spine and I hug his hoodie tighter. 

“Um..48.” I tap my screen and show him how it looks in motion. 

“...That’s all?”

I snort, “That’s animation for ya. And even though the recorded conversation is like 25 seconds there’s still the movement- wait, how is this being edited? Like are you sure you want to stop the flow of your video with a random animation of our interaction?”

Kenma nods, “I mean it’ll be like stitched into the video. I’ve done it in the past with little stickers Akaashi designs and used those for reaction pieces. So my fans wouldn’t be thrown off with another piece of medium. Keiji and I talked about it last night, though, as long as it’s transparent we wouldn’t have to cut into a completely different background. That’s why I wanted it to be pretty simple-“

We are interrupted with the sound of Kuroo’s footsteps coming up the front doors and the jingle of his keys. He opens the door and his cheeks are stained from the cold air outside. In his hands are two plastic bags filled with junk food, and a takeout bag. 

“Need help?” I ask, getting up from the couch. 

“Hey,” he breathes out with a shiver. “Sure. _Jesus_ it’s cold in here, too. Are you guys opposed to comfort?”

“We’ve been working, didn’t feel like getting up.” I say, grabbing the food. 

“Also, she’s afraid I’m gonna tax her- Oh sweet you went to Yujo’s?” Kenma stands up to help with the bags, he takes in a deep breath to smell the food. 

“I was craving ramen,” Kuroo grins. “I swear it’s the best hangover cure.” 

“Are you backed by science or is that conjecture?” I smirk, ducking away from his attempt to flick my forehead. 

“You should trust your elder,” With his hands freed from the bags, he uses this opportunity to touch my hot skin with his icy ones. 

“Ah!” I yelp, “Stop you’re gonna make me drop the ramen, you idiot!”

Kuroo snickers, forcing the two of us away from the living room and into the kitchen. As we eat, the aroma of food fills the house and any memories of tension are gone. The three of us chatter happily, our headaches slowly being soothed away with the broth and our stomachs finally filled with comforting beef and pork. Per usual, they tease me about my slightly awkward chopstick skills. Although Tetsū finally relents and admits with a heavy sigh, that yes, I have gotten substantially better. I keep an eye on the clock, knowing in a few hours I’ll need to start hitting the road or else my mom will threaten to lock the front door and leave me out in the cold. 

There’s a heavy knock on the door. Tetsū starts to stand but Kenma touches his shoulder and heads to the front door. Kenma looks through our peephole and sighs. 

“¿Quién es?” I ask. 

“Bokuto and Akaashi,” Kenma replies and unlocks the door to let the two in. Next to me I hear Kuroo mumbling, wondering how and when Kenma learned Spanish. 

“Hey, hey!” Bokuto greets with a wide smile. 

Akaashi nods a hello and shivers, “Damn guys is your heater broken?” At that, the three of us look at each and it finally clicks. 

“Crap, it might be.”

-(-)-

“We didn’t wanna not see you before you trip,” Bokuto explains, giving me a hug. I laugh and grip his shoulders because, for some reason, he takes a step forward and I can feel myself tripping over my feet. 

“Knock it off,” Kuroo stiffly laughs. “You’re gonna break her, and she still has a long drive.”

“Kenma, how far are you on the video-“ Akaashi starts to ask. 

“Nope! We are going to separate work from our personal lives, right now, because our lovely friend is leaving us and we only have a couple of hours.” Bokuto claps, pushing an unamused Keiji to the kitchen. “You guys need to work on setting those boundaries, I swear.”

“I agree,” Kuroo eggs on. I watch Keiji and Kenma roll their eyes, whispering to each other as quickly as they can without getting caught. Kenma catches my eye, and with a pleading look puts a single finger to his lips. I nod, and distract Bokuto and Kuroo for a moment. 

“Sorry, if I would’ve known you guys were coming I would’ve gotten food.” I muster an apology. 

Bokuto grins, “Ah it’s fine. We brought bánh mì and udon noodles. Ah man, you got Yujo’s? We should’ve called.”

“Kenma, sit back down and eat,” Kuroo sighs. I glance over and see Keiji and Kenma ignoring Kuroo, continuing to share their thoughts and ideas over his video content. 

“Tetsū,” I tap his arm, catching his attention. He raises his eyebrows in question, the cold in the house has started to pinken his cheeks. “ _You_ eat, you’ve been running around all morning. You’re gonna make yourself sick, I don't even know how you even drove with a hangover.”

“Hangover?” Bokuto unwraps his sandwich and squeezes between Kuroo (who finally sat) and I. “Damn, you guys did another drinking game? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I texted asking if you were busy, and you were at the gym.” Kuroo shrugs. 

“Bro you’re smart though,” Bokuto takes a bite and gulps down his food. “Ramen is _the_ perfect hangover-“

“-Hangover cure!” They say at the same time, Kuroo shoots me a smirk and winks. 

“I told you,” Kuroo laughs. 

“How did Kuroo win?” Akaashi jokes, the two workaholics sit down at our table with his food now. 

“What do you mean? I won.” Kenma replies before slurping his noodles. 

“Yeah it’s been decided I came second,” I nod. 

“You’re just the first loser,” Kuroo snickers.

Bokuto leans back so I can smack Kuroo freely, “So you admit that you’re a freakin’ loser!”

“Well, it just seems like he’s the only one that doesn’t have a terrible hangover.” Akaashi speaks up. 

“That, my friends, is just having a basic understanding in life science and drinking a lot of water-“

We all groan. 

-(-)-

Bokuto lingers in the kitchen with me, helping me clean as Kuroo and the others pack the car for me. We make small conversation about the team, how they have an important game coming up soon and hopefully I’ll be back before they leave. Reassuring him that I’ll only be gone for five days, he excitedly tells me about the other time. Too engrossed in our conversation, I don’t notice how close I am to Bokuto until he whispers my name. 

“Hm?” I look up, immediately struck by how close we are. “Oh sorry-“ I try to take a step back, but Bokuto stops me. 

“Okay, so how long have you and Tetsurou been dating?” He asks, eyes glimmering with excitement. 

“Wh-what?” I stammer, I feel the back of my neck growing hot in embarrassment. “We aren’t!”

He cheekily smiles, “Okay so if you aren’t dating then I’m going to assume neither of you idiots have confessed then, huh?” He pauses, waiting for me to deny my feelings but I can’t find it in me. “Right. So if you give me the go ahead, do you wanna irritate Kuroo just a _little_ bit?”

I snort, “Always. But what are you planning- _oh.”_ Bokuto tucks a stray curl behind my ear unexpectedly, leaning in closer with a teasing smile. He doesn’t let go of my gaze, and in a low whisper says, “He’s been lingering a lot, especially compared to Akaashi and Kenma. I think he thinks I’ve been flirting with you.”

At that, I break out of my embarrassment and laugh. “God, doesn’t he know that you’re talking to that cute business admin major?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much he doesn’t listen, especially when _you_ are around.” Bokuto glances over me and takes a step back, a boyish - hint _devious-_ smile grows. “Ah man, I wish you would’ve seen his face just now! He’s gonna blow!”

“Bokuto-,” I nudge him and beckon him closer again. Curiously, he kneels down again to hear me whisper. “Why didja think Kuroo and I were… like, well, _you know…_ ” 

He quirks an eyebrow, confused now. “I mean, it’s a little obvious that you have a thing for each other.”

I gasp, “I am _not_ obvious!”

Bokuto gasps as well, mocking me, “You _are_ obvious! Why did you think he was so irritated that you and Keiji were hanging out so closely? He’s _textbook_ when it comes to nonverbal communication, especially when you are around.”

“Here we go,” I pinch the bridge of my nose. 

“Hear me out,” he laughs. “I know I’m in sports psychology, but don’t forget we still have to understand and study mostly everything else too. And get this, why do you think he was so bothered by Keiji and you?”

I stare blankly. We hear the front door open and close again. I assume it’s Kuroo because Bokuto leans in again, giving me a very dramatic, flirty smile. When Kuroo leaves, he switches back.

“Because he had come out of a relationship where the balance in emotional needs and intelligence were out of whack _and_ neglected. Here you are, one of his close friends and roommates, showing him what it’s like to be close to the opposite sex and being open with the other. So it’s easy to see why he would be a little protective and jealous over someone else who might be taking up that time with you-“

“Okay but he doesn’t seem to be upset about Kenma and I being close.” 

“Kuroo will react differently towards Kenma because those two are practically brothers,” Bokuto patiently explains. “In any sense though, Kuroo values you. You’re an important person to him, anyone can see that. He’s also an idiot, though, because despite being pretty perceptive of others he’s completely oblivious to your feelings.”

Mulling that over, I still can’t wrap my mind around Bokuto’s words “So he doesn’t know I have feelings for him?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

A thought dawns on me and fills me with dread, “Oh _god_ does everyone know?”

Bokuto rubs my shoulder consolingly, “Not _everyone_ but people have asked about you two-“

“Agh!”

“Wha- are you okay?” He asks, bewildered. 

“ _No,_ ” I reply honestly, “The last time everyone knew about a crush I had, they treated me differently. They left me out of hangouts because they thought I was just his friend to be close to him- You guys don’t think that? Right?” I tightly hold onto Bokuto’s hands, desperation in my eyes. 

“I- of course _not,_ ” Bokuto quickly takes my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I promise. It’s funny, though, I thought you guys have been sneaking around for weeks now. God, that’s so anticlimactic. I’m glad I didn’t ask Kuroo, because I might have psyched him out. Honestly I still haven’t even explained the nonverbal communication he’s sends off whenever you’re around-“

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tetsū walking up to us. “Tch! Shut up!” I quickly turn around and make eye contact with him. He looks at me, half confused-half suspicious. 

“Car’s good to go,” Kuroo says. “You sure you have everything?” He leans against the counter, angling his body closer to me. A glance at Bokuto, and he gives me a pointed look and a smug grin. 

“Yes,” I sigh. Bokuto smacks Kuroo’s shoulder on his way out of the kitchen, making his way outside to where Kenma and Akaashi still are. I keep my eyes on Bokuto, knowing full well that Kuroo is staring at me. 

“It’s Bokuto.” Kuroo declares, the moment our front door closes behind our friend. 

“What?” A string of giggles slips through me, “What about Bokuto?”

“He’s the guy you- well, uh… the one you..” Kuroo stammers, his confidence from early quickly dwindling. With a smack to his shoulder, he whines.

“You’re an idiot! I already told you last night that I don’t like anyone.” 

“Then why are you smiling?” He furrows his brows and pouts. “I don’t believe you, you of all people should know it’s damn near impossible to lie to me.”

“Yes, which is why I promise you I don’t have a crush on Bokuto!” I laugh, leaning in on the counter like Kuroo. A sly smile spreads across his face, a mere six inches away from mine. 

“But you like _someone.”_

 _“_ God, this again- No!” Kuroo reaches forward and grabs strings of my hoodie, pulling on them tightly so as to bother me.

“Ah! Stop! Let’s just toy with the idea that I do in fact, have _feelings_ for someone-“ I roll my eyes, fixing the hood and the strings. “Why do you want to know? Like who cares?”

He mulls his answer over, “You told Kenma something, right? Why not me?”

I take a deep breath and laugh, “Yeah I guess but that wasn’t because I _wanted_ to. He, like, found me in my feelings a few times.”

Tetsurou tilts his head, “Are you okay now?” This time when he reaches to grab my hoodie strings, he gently toys with the strings around his fingers. 

I reach over and ruffle his hair, “Of course.”

“Ahem,” Kenma clears his throat, announcing his presence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He has a small smirk, eyeing the two of us being so close. 

“No it’s fine,” Kuroo straightens himself. “What’s up?”

“Sabrina told me earlier to give her a 5 minute warning before she had to leave,” Kenma nods to the car out front, his hood is pulled over his head and his cheeks stain red from the blistering cold. 

“Shoot,” I look at my roommates now, my stomach drops at the thought of being away. “God this sucks. The only one who isn’t gonna be down my throat is my sister, what am I supposed to do?”

“You have our group chat,” Kenma suggests. “Rant there, and then enjoy our misery in showing Heather all of America.”

“Yeah, also don’t forget that it’s just for a few days. Stick by your sister, watch out for each other. You have a support system.” Kuroo gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I take in a deep breath, my mind swirling with what I will have to face when I see my family 

“It just sucks.” It’s all I can manage. I’ve talked about my family to them both before. It’s the classic situation where your entire family needs therapy, but no one is willing. I glance at my roommates, both somber. “I have you guys, though. I will not die, I will just have to get through it. But I might have to come back and drink, just so you all know.” Kenma and Kuroo comically groan at the thought of more alcohol. 

“Well, I’m going to go outside and say bye to the guys.” I sigh. 

“Alright, we’ll meet you out there.” Kuroo smiles. 

When I close the front door, I hear Kuroo starting to speak to Kenma in a hushed tone. I don’t have much time outside to think about why Kuroo held Kenma back, elongating their time inside to have some privacy. Akaashi immediately drags me over to the car, begging me to settle a debate that Bokuto had started since his time outside. We stand in the cold, waiting for Kuroo and Kenma to send me off. Turns out that debate that needs settling is over the latest chapter of our favorite manga. 

“Okay but don’t you think that they shouldn’t have been able escape due to the mental dexterity of their leader?!” Bokuto yells, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Have you considered that if they all die, there’s no point in having a manga?!” I yell back. 

“Oh my god, this wasn’t even what we were supposed to be talking about.” Akaashi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, _fine._ Maybe the way they escaped was a little too perfect, considering that their leader was practically drowning in self doubt the entire time- _sure._ I’ll give that to you, Kōu. But Sabrina is right that we can’t have the entire team just _die_ in the middle of this arc.”

“So what should they have done?” I huff, the air that escapes my lips forms a vapor. The three of us have been leaning against Kuroo’s car for a while now, the metal hasn’t gotten any warmer against us. 

“I think the artists and storyboard writers were being rushed, which happens. It happens to us in class too, don’t forget you almost had your heroine suddenly cured from her injuries in the following chapter.” Keiji throws me a weighted look, “It’s not a perfect chapter but we can’t deny that none of us saw that ending happen.” 

Bokuto and I ponder on that in silence. We all finally agree on something. 

“What would _you_ have done?” I ask, shivering despite my layers. 

“I would’ve come up with a slightly different route of the story so it's a bit smoother,” He taps his chin. “I mean, the art was gorgeous, no one can deny that. They just needed someone to tell the artist to not be so hasty with the details for the plot.”

Our front door opens and out comes a neutral-faced Kuroo and Kenma. Both the boys next to me stiffen, their years of knowing my roommates tip the advantages their way. Bokuto yells over to Kuroo, involving him in our debate. Quickly, the two find solace that they both find faults in the chapter. Akaashi and I groan, both of us know how hard it is making a perfect chapter happen as artists. Kenma makes eye contact with me, rolling his eyes at Bokuto and Kuroo now loudly boasting that they shared the same thoughts. 

“I’m gonna be late,” I raise my voice over theirs. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Kuroo steps away from Bokuto. To my surprise, he pulls me in for a tight hug. “Let us know when you’re there, please.”

Dumb-founded, and slightly embarrassed when I make eye contact with Bokuto, I find myself blushing under the sudden warmth of his body. Tetsū’s nose is cold against the heat of my neck, his hands are firm against my back and waist. I breathe in, my heart fluttering at how good he smells. My eyes tightly close, desperately hoping I can engrave this into my memory. When we let go, I find myself yearning to be close again. Bokuto gives me a knowing smile, a hint to tell me to just confess already. _No. Not like this._

Despite already missing his touch, I scoff. “I’m not off to war, Kuroo.”

“Hey,” he squints. “Read between the lines.” Kuroo holds up his three middle fingers on his hand, to which Kenma cackles. 

“Alright, alright.” Bokuto waves Kuroo off, “Bye Sabi-chan. See ya soon, right?” He gives me a quick hug. 

“Uh-huh,” I answer, giving Akaashi my farewell hug. 

I turn to Kenma, who has been characteristically quiet. A smile tugs at my lips again, and I pull him in. We ignore Bokuto’s remarks, wondering why Kenma allows me to hug him and never himself. Gingerly, he embraces me back. 

“You’ll be fine,” I whisper, referencing Heather. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Don’t forget to give me all the gossip.” 

Kenma softly chuckles, his chest booming against mine. “Alright, whatever. Please drive safe.” 

Kenma, Bokuto, and Akaashi walk back inside our home. Kuroo lingers next to me, the two of us silent as we hear Bokuto declaring he’s going to fix our godforsaken heater. We chuckle hearing Akaashi’s response. The door shuts, leaving us officially alone. Awkwardly, I turn my eyes down to my scuffling feet. From my view, I see Kuroo’s sneaker gently nudge my own. I look up and his cheeks are stained red from the cold wind, there’s a half-smile forming on his face, his hazel eyes warm my cheeks. 

“What?” I ask, internally I wince from the harshness in my tone. 

“Gonna miss you, is all.” He shrugs, “It's going to be a long week.” 

“You’ll have another girl to fill in for me don’t worry,” I tease. For the first time, my heart doesn’t clench at the thought of Heather. Kuroo stares at me, unwilling to humor me. “And Kenma.” I quickly add. “Which, by the way, is he alright? He seems a little… down?”

Kuroo hesitates, his hand massages the back of his neck while he thinks of an answer. “It’s stupid,” he admits. 

“I’m sure it is,” I laugh, tapping his shoe with mine. 

“Don’t judge,” Kuroo shoots me a pointed look. 

“Please,” I shrug, “Y’all have been judged on worse I’m sure.”

“We just found out that we accidentally bought the same game, for each other’s birthday gift. So now we gotta, one: find another gift. And two: we can’t decide which one of us needs to return the game.”

“You guys are idiots!” I laugh, feeling the pressure come off my chest. “ _Jeez_ , all morning I thought y’all were seriously on bad terms again right before I gotta leave.” Kuroo sheepishly smiles, stepping in closer for one last goodbye hug. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles into my hair. “We didn’t mean to.”

“S’okay,” I laugh into his shoulder.

We pull away, but he doesn’t let me go just yet. “You’re such a liar though, I thought you said you wouldn’t judge.”

“Technically, I made no such promise.” Happily, I brush away his fringe and smile. “You think you should be the one to return it, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes and nods. 

“Well too bad,” I say. “Let Kenma do something for you.” Tetsū blinks at me, shocked that I didn’t take his side. 

“Okay but his birthday is coming up-“ 

“And? He probably knows how much it means to you, probably more than it is for him. Just return the stupid game, accept his gift, and move on. I’m assuming this game is gonna make you, like, unbelievably happy, right?”

His hands nervously twitch at my waist, and I remember that we are still holding onto each other in the cold. Tetsū’s eyes hold onto mine, the sunlight bringing out flecks of yellow in them. 

“Don’t feel bad,” I laugh and pull him close again. “You do a lot for us, let him give you something back in return.” 

“Fine,” he whispers into my ear. “You guys are both annoying.”

“Whatever.” 

Finally we let go, shivering from the loss of contact. Kuroo hands me over his car keys, not before making me jump for them. The heat of the car stings my cheeks while the absence of my friends settles deep in my heart already. I sigh, mindlessly eating the snacks Kuroo has gotten for me. He’s bought more than enough for the ride, in fact it’s enough to for my entire time away. A smile makes its way onto my lips, imagining him trying to remember all of the junk I crave. He gives me a lot of crap in the amount Kenma and I consume, always lecturing about having a healthy diet yet always sits down with us to join in. _Or coming up with games that destroy ones’ livers._

My phone rings, glancing down it’s the devil himself. 

“Thank you for calling Starbucks on 86th and Ravenswood, how can I help you?” I answer how I would at work, trying to keep my smile off my face. 

There’s a brief pause before he replies, “Wow you almost got me.”

I laugh, “ _Dude really_? Sweet! What’s up?” 

“You almost there?” In the background I can hear the guys loudly arguing over a video game.

“I have about 45 more minutes.”

“So why did you pick up?” Kuroo scolds me, I’d take it more seriously if I couldn’t hear his teasing smile through his words. 

“Why’d ya call if I said I was going to let you know when I was there?” I quip. 

“To test and see if you’d drive and call me at the same time. You failed, by the way.” 

I snort, “ _Oh no.”_ On the other side of the line, I hear his laugh and he gives a quick goodbye. It’s a few moments after our call that I put two and two together, that Kuroo is most likely on his way out to the airport with Kenma’s car. Tetsū wasn’t just checking in on me, he also just wanted to hear from me right before having to see Heather. 

For the rest of my drive, I can’t stop smiling. 

-(-)-

  
  



End file.
